Imprisoned
by Skye12
Summary: Sequel to "Webs of Madness" *No Slash* Sam awakens in Ithilien to learn the terrible fate of his master.
1. Awakening

In the warm silence as spring broke in Ithilien the grass was clean and fresh and the wind sang in the boughs of the beech trees. Amongst this silence one could lose oneself in sheer peace as nature bloomed and the miracle of season changing before your very eyes. The silence was shattered, however, as one of the tent flaps burst open and a small figure appeared gasping for breath. He gripped a small crutch and used it to maneuver himself as quick as he could across the field rousing many of the wounded soldiers.  
  
He stumbled and groaned as his wounds were disturbed by the hard ground that still clung to the icy frost. He lifted his head and his free arm found the crutch again. As quick as his partially crushed form could move he made his way to another tent and stood gasping. He wanted to bound in or call out but he could muster no more energy and fell forward.  
  
In an instant his shaking form was caught by someone who emerged from the tent. "Pip! Honestly what gets into your head! You want to kill yourself is what it is!"  
  
"I'm sorry, cousin," said the younger hobbit as he looked up gratefully at his rescuer. His eyes peered into Frodo's tent. "Is-"  
  
"Shh. He's gone, Pip, you know that." Merry steadied his cousin. Pippin glanced up and blinked but Merry turned away quickly and ran a sleeve across his eyes. "You're crying." Pippin stated rather slowly as if his young mind could not perceive such a thing, yet tears filled his own eyes.  
  
"Not now, Pip. Why did you come so quickly?"  
  
"Oh yes!" Pippin cried almost forgetting his urgent reason for coming. "Sam's awake! Throwing a good fit in there too!" Suddenly his voice lowered. "I'm afraid for him, Merry, you don't think he'll end up like-" He was cut off by a choking sob that he could not keep in his throat much longer.  
  
Merry tossed down Pippin's crutch and leaned his cousin on him, "We can go faster if you lean on me," he whispered. Pippin nodded, eyes still wide and teary. They left the area as Frodo's tent flap waved softly and silently in the breeze. There was sadness in the silence as the very grass and trees and breeze mourned.  
  
~~~  
  
"Where's Mr. Frodo!"  
  
Merry paused in front of Sam's tent and exchanged a worried glance with Pippin. He noticed the weary fatigue in the younger hobbits eyes and sighed mournfully. *He was put through too much to be straining himself like this.*  
  
They entered and were met instantly with Sam's fuming eyes. "Mr. Merry! Mr. Peregrin! I don't demand much but I am demanding this..!"  
  
"Sh, Sam, I know. You can't see him right now," said Merry, warily.  
  
"Why were we put in different tents?!" Sam raged, then fell to the covers sobbing. "I made a promise! A promise!" He rambled never ceasing.  
  
Merry helped Pippin to sit at the foot of the bed then came to Sam's side. When he put his hand on Sam's shoulder the sobbing hobbit jumped back up and looked about, confused. He turned to Merry, eyes pleading, "I've failed him! I just know it! I promised to stay with him. To never leave his side. And I failed." He groaned and fell back as if in agony.  
  
In moments he was reduced to occasional sobbing that racked his feeble frame. Pippin sat up and cradled his crushed arm. "Merry maybe some water," he whispered, motioning to the pitcher in the corner.  
  
"Good idea, Pip."  
  
Merry walked over and poured a cup full of clean, pure water that seemed to sing as clear, bright glass as it was poured. Sam did not take heed of that foreign sound, his ears too full of tears. Merry clambered onto the bed careful not to spill a drop of the precious liquid. He tilted Sam's head back and the weak hobbit complied surrendering his will. Merry poured a small stream of water into Sam's mouth and gave him a moment to swallow.  
  
Quick as a flash Sam's teary eyes snapped open and he coughed up every last drop of water. Pippin watched in shock as his cousin was sprayed and tried to hide his chuckles.  
  
"No, Mr. Frodo! Saving- water- for you-" Sam gasped.  
  
Merry and Pippin stared in shock. Pippin leaned over and whispered in his cousin's ear, "How long do you suppose he went without water?"  
  
Merry's voice cracked, "I don't know."  
  
Sam buried his face in his pillow and sobbed, "I've lost him! Lost him! Lost him! After Gandalf told me not to and I did! I've failed!"  
  
"Sam!" Merry cried, gripping the other hobbit by the shoulders and forcing him to look straight into his eyes. "You have not failed! Don't you ever say that! Don't you ever think that!"  
  
Sam closed his eyes and looked away, "What do you know about it," he mumbled, "I killed him."  
  
"What?" Merry let go of Sam and he burrowed back under the covers.  
  
"I killed him," he repeated, his voice was muffled by the covers. "I did a terrible thing in the end. I let go."  
  
"Let go of what?" Merry inquired.  
  
"Hope. I let go of it after I promised him I wouldn't. I've broken so many promises don't you see. So many. Oh, it's all my fault!"  
  
There was a long silence until Sam mustered the courage to speak again. "His last words to me- I- I didn't understand them! Oh curse me a thousand times! I didn't understand! Just one word. One word I remembered. One word I understood.."  
  
"Sam?" Merry tugged at the covers but Sam just whimpered.  
  
"Mellon. That's what he called me. Friend. I can remember it from Moria. It's all I have left of him now. But- he called me friend. I can barely remember if he called me that before. I was too off my head to remember. But I've failed him now. I did not deserve to be called a friend. I was his servant! And a terrible servant I was!"  
  
"Off your head? What are you talking about?"  
  
"Merry!" Pippin scolded, "You could be a little softer than that. After all he's gone through."  
  
"I'm sorry. But, Sam, tell me, what happened out there?"  
  
And so Sam burst like a dam and his tears flowed as anxious as the river behind it. He told of everything and his sentences ran together and stumbled over each other but Pippin and Merry just nodded understandingly and gave him a tight embrace when he broke down into nothing but sobs and gasps. Finally the tale was spilled and not a fact was left out. They knew of Frodo's madness. Of Gollum's treachery. They knew of the water and Frodo saving Sam. They learned of the torment and the anguish and somewhere deep inside them they felt it too. The three hobbits consoled each other but Merry and Pippin had not the time to tell their tales.  
  
Sam had seemed to be broken entirely, mind body and spirit there was nothing left of him. When the tale was over and Sam tried to recall Frodo's dying words he fell back to the pillows and wept repeating over and over; "I've failed him! I've failed him!"  
  
Merry glanced at Pippin and both hobbits nodded. "He is not dead, Sam."  
  
Sam sat bolt upright, "He's- he's alive?" he whispered hoarsely.  
  
Silence.  
  
Sam was gripped by a sudden madness and strength as he snatched Merry's collar and held his face close to his own. He growled angrily, "Where is he!? Why am I not beside him!?"  
  
"Sam," Merry said softly easing himself from Sam's grip. "He's- he's not who he once was."  
  
"What are you talking about?" Sam spat.  
  
"He's-" Merry stuttered.  
  
"Now, Sam don't you go taking this out on Merry!" Pippin jumped in protectively.  
  
Sam gaped at the bandaged hobbit, "Pip. What happened?"  
  
Pippin's face turned red but he said nothing. A slight frown creased Merry's brow, "We have all seen our trials, Samwise."  
  
Sam gripped his head as if he were struck by a hard blow. "Oh I'm sorry! Sorry! Sorry! How terrible I must seem! But you said he was alive. You must take me to him. Nothing would heal me better than to see him alive. To see Frodo again without the terrible influence of the Ring. To see Frodo, our old Frodo again, alive and well."  
  
Merry glanced at Pippin warily.  
  
"Sam this is hard. So hard on everyone," Merry began. Sam just stared at him wide eyed and expecting the worst. "You see, Sam he took a terrible blow to his head. Mind you he's healthy. Well what I mean is- that he's alive. Well of course he's alive- but I mean- I mean he's- well he's not dead, Sam." Merry began but he fumbled with his words trying to put this as easily as he could possibly do.  
  
Pippin cleared his throat, "What Merry means is. He's alive and he's well-"  
  
Sam grew agitated, "Yes, yes I know that."  
  
"Well you see he's alive and well but- but the person-"  
  
Merry broke in, "The person we're talking about is not Frodo."  
  
Sam groaned and rolled his eyes, "What do you mean? I'm sure there are a lot of people out there that are alive and well and *not* Frodo. But I want to hear about Frodo. Is he alive- or-" Sam choked.  
  
Merry and Pippin exchanged glances again, "We don't know."  
  
Sam groaned again, "How can you not know!"  
  
"We don't know if he's in there," Pippin blurted out.  
  
"What?" cried Sam.  
  
Merry put a hand on Sam's shoulder, "He's not the Frodo we knew, Sam."  
  
This was all Sam needed to hear he was on his feet in a flash and storming out of the tent. He burst outside taking absolutely no notice to the spring as it blossomed around him. He looked left and right at all the tents then spun around and growled at Merry and Pippin. "Take me to him! I want to see for myself!"  
  
Merry and Pippin exchanged their wary glances again and complied.  
  
  
  
  
  
A/N........Weeeell?? Not a bad start? Hah but I didn't kill him now did I? The question is; Is this much worse? Oh please Review! Next chapter should be up soon. 


	2. Broken

"Frodo. Frodo."  
  
The tent was dark, lit only by the warm glimmering lights of a few candles.  
  
"Frodo. Frodo Baggins."  
  
The healer was bent over, his white robes danced in an array of shadows as the light glinted off the many folds. All the shadows in the tent were exaggerated by the movement of the candle as Envin slowly moved it left and right in front of his patient's face repeating his name over and over.  
  
"Frodo.."  
  
The flame flickered and was yet unheeded by the form in front of Envin, staring unseeingly into nothingness. His head was cocked slightly to the side and his face was unreadable, a blank portrait of a solemn creature. He was as still as a statue, carved so delicately and fair. His eyes were blank and yet so powerful, empty and shining as the lights of stars. His pale lips were parted slightly as if caught in a slight gasp but his breathing was so steady he did not look alive in the least bit. The candle light ran across his fair face and yet there was no movement. No sign of recognition could be seen across his sad features and he seemed to see past it beyond this world into darkness and nothing. Face as placid and calm as that of a still, shallow pool. His brow was slightly creased and troubled and he seemed dozing, caught in a world between dreams and waking.  
  
"Trapped," murmured Envin.  
  
Somewhere in the monotony of this slow mesmerizing dance the healer gave up with a loud sigh. He lowered the candle and used his free hand to brush aside an offending tendril of chestnut hair that found its way in front of Frodo's turbid face. His expression was cloudy and Envin examined it another moment.  
  
"There is beauty in you, Ring-bearer," he whispered then shook his head. He was young and learned healing from his father since before he could stand and here he was, called amongst the best healers of the land to treat the savior of Middle-Earth and he could do nothing. And if his father heard him speaking such to his betters, yet he could not take his eyes off of the somber figure. It was as if someone had painted such a creature in the warmest tones of murky oils and he came to be, yet without life or mind. Just a painting, a beautiful painting, and there was no hope for such a witless creature.  
  
He was propped against the bed, hands limp at his sides, so fair those hands were, the right wrapped in many bandages. His thin frame seemed so fragile, as a porcelain doll draped in grey robes that were much too big for such a tiny frame. His porcelain face, soft and fair, marred with the shadows of past pains and burdens. Eyes lit with a pale glitter and a halo of dark curls framing such beauty as they peered around the white strips of the head bandage. Simple as a doll, with beauty that could not be made by the hands of men or elves.  
  
Envin found that tears had wet his cheeks and he quickly wiped them away on his robes and continued to gaze in wonder at this dismal creature. Frodo's eyes never returned to focus nor did they move to glance about the room, they were fixed on something that was not there....as they had been for many a day.  
  
Envin sighed and blew out the candle. "He is gone."  
  
~~~Back on Mount Doom~~~  
  
The mountain tore forth in a rain of ash and flame as the earth and sky crumbled together. There was darkness and a blinding pain as Frodo could remember being torn in so many directions he just wanted to cry out and be left for dead. He could remember standing on the mount and no more. There was something inside of him. A wire pulled too taut until it finally snapped and the world shattered around him. There was no more world. Thoughts and consciousness and reality bled together in Frodo's mind and he felt himself fall back into darkness. He could feel the power torn away from him as he fought tooth and nail to keep it. Now both sanity and insanity fought for the Ring. If it were lost he would break. His mind would be broken he needed it now to both keep the sanity and insanity alive. But he was not strong enough. Some part of him was the slightest bit too slow or some part of him was the slightest bit too weak or maybe there was some virtue left in his broken, soulless body. Some tiny shred that held him back though he did not know it. That still wanted the Ring destroyed and for it he would have been thankful. He would have been grateful to die, if he could distinguish anything any longer. Darkness bled with light. Good with evil. There was nothing left for him. He felt his broken body being lifted. It hurt, he cried out but some sadistic part of him was glad. Some morbid part of him was happy when he hit that wall, when he felt the force of the blow to his head, when he heard his very own bone snap. He could die now.  
  
After all the fabric of his universe was rent and bleeding, until the very shreds of his identity were burned, a war still waged in his mind. The sanity against the insanity in one final battle. The monster that the Ring created would die and he knew it.  
  
"You've failed, Gollum!" Frodo shouted triumphantly.  
  
"We will die, Frodo love, oh yes we cannot escape it. We will die. But you, beloved, you do not think we would leave you and let you live. Oh no!"  
  
Something gripped Frodo then and he was bound. His fearful eyes looked straight at the monster that he had fought against for so long. And the black rags were torn down and the evil Gollum creature had all but disappeared. Frodo's eyes widened in horror and he shrieked at seeing what his true foe really was. Before him stood a small creature, rather thin, fair skin, and dark chestnut curls. His wild blue eyes shown with utter insanity and the crazed smirk never daunted. Frodo cowered in fear of this creature.  
  
He found himself being gripped by the neck and pulled forward. "I condemn you, Frodo Baggins to be forever imprisoned in the darkest confines of! Your! Own! Mind!"  
  
"You're- you're-"  
  
"I am you, wretch!" And the creature backhanded Frodo with all its might. He leaned closer and smirked maliciously. "We are all our own worst enemies, Frodo love." He whispered with an ominous hiss that made all of Frodo shiver and quake with fear.  
  
Quickly, Frodo's hands shot out to stay the raging beast. He looked up with agonized eyes and screamed, "Cuio nin mellon! Im wanwa na inwisti! A uume nyenye ten nin!" And he could hold the beast no longer. He was thrown back down the darkest depths of his own mind, from which there is no escape, and he was forced to despair.  
  
~~~  
  
"Frodo. Frodo."  
  
Silence.  
  
"Frodo. Frodo."  
  
The healer was waving the candle slowly once more. He almost cried out for joy and sorrow when he saw a reaction. The hobbit did not blink, nor did his expression change, nor did his eyes become more focussed. But a slow tear was glimmering down his porcelain face. Envin frowned again. This could mean nothing. He sighed. Frodo was not reacting to the light. Whatever the tear was from it must be whatever he is experiencing in his prison. The vacant face had not changed and Envin continued his exasperating duty always clinging to hope that the Ring-bearer might, one day, return to their world.  
  
He sighed, lowering the candle, "It is no use. He is broken." He ran his hand along the outline of Frodo's face and looked upon him in pity. "Must you, hero of heroes live a life in ignorance?" Envin let his hand drop and studied the vacant eyes once more. "It is of no use. He is simple."  
  
There was a slight sob behind him and Envin spun around. He saw three small figures framed in the sunlight as the tent flap was opened. One fell to the ground and wept the other two tried to console him. Envin's jaw dropped open. The other Ring-bearer had awakened!  
A/N..... you should really read "Webs of Madness" before this or you won't understand much. 


	3. Recognition

Envin was dumbstruck. The candle was flickering as a light breeze entered the tent and the hobbits let the flap fall. Silently the healer cursed himself for speaking outright but his own scolding was drowned out by his awe as he beheld, for the first time, one of the Ring-bearers awake and about. This too was one of his patients he was called to see but he had little work to do with him. Samwise was much better off than Frodo so he centered his studies on the latter.  
  
The majestic Ring-bearer took no heed of Envin as he stuttered and clamored to his feet clumsily. Swiftly he brushed off Merry and Pippin and came to stand at the very foot of Frodo's bed. Envin looked down at Samwise, then fell to his knees in reverence.  
  
"My lord! Forgiveness please! I did not know that you had come hither."  
  
Sam cocked his head and blushed to the tips of his ears. "Now, sir-"  
  
Envin felt himself blush too. Sir? He bowed his head, "No sir forgive me, I have spoken out of turn. But I did not know you had intended to come, otherwise I would have rescheduled my treatment." Envin glanced up and Sam's look was quite comical. In any other case Merry and Pippin would have laughed but here was not the place. He trembled and looked at the ground again, overcome with the sheer honour of being in the presence of the Ring- bearer. "But I was not informed you had awaken either, sir."  
  
Sam stuttered a moment not sure what to make of this, "N- no please Mr.- uh- "  
  
"Envin, sir, and no need for the mister."  
  
"Well Envin," said Sam rather uncomfortably, "You don't have to be bowin' and kneelin' and such."  
  
Envin could not hide the blood as it rushed to his cheeks and he rose. Once that was over Sam let out a sigh and focused all of his attention on his master. He began to tremble as he approached the small bed and sobs escaped his throat at the sight. "W-wha-" Sam gulped over an immense lump that had formed in his throat, "What happened?" he choked out, "Why is he like this?" His voice was a shred of a whisper and they shook with such pain and emotion Envin found tears on his face again.  
  
"We believe, Master Samwise, that it is due to many things. He has been hit in the head, right around here, sir," Envin pointed around to the back of Frodo's skull. "It was a bad blow, cut through- every- everything-," Envin gulped seeing tears fall down Lord Samwise's cheeks. "Master Mithrandir has offered his services in aiding him as well. His guess may be more accurate; that the blow did indeed cause a good bit of damage but also that burden he bore- it- it was just for far too long- it- it broke him-"  
  
"Envin," came a soft voice, it was Merry's, "You should probably go." He motioned towards Sam who seemed so immensely struck by all of this he did not hear a word Envin had said. The young healer nodded and bowed to each of them. He took one last look at the beautiful figure, still as stone on the bed, brushed away some tears and left into the sunny morning.  
  
Merry and Pippin turned sad eyes to Sam who could not tear his away from Frodo's form. He did look like a doll. Limp and lifeless, not even blinking and his eyes were somewhere else, staring infinitely into darkness. Sam finally gasped and fell to the floor again, "Oh, no, no, no........." Merry and Pippin were at his sides immediately.  
  
"How long-" Sam gasped, "-has he been- like this-"  
  
"About two weeks now, Sam, as long as you've been asleep," answered Merry.  
  
"He doesn't move? At all?" Sam struggled with his questions as he could not keep from weeping.  
  
"Not on his own, save for his eyes might try and focus on something but he never succeeds. He doesn't know where he is, who he is, or *if* he is even," said Pippin, choking on his own sobs.  
  
"W-will he come back? L-like I did?"  
  
"This is different, Sam, you were asleep, in a deep healing sleep, he is lost somewhere. Gandalf says-"  
  
"Gandalf!" cried Sam.  
  
Merry smiled, "Oh dear Sam! You've both missed so much, there are tales to tell but they can wait. Yes Gandalf is alive and that's all you need to know for now and all we'll trouble your mind with any way. You're still not well, Sam, you should be resting."  
  
Sam frowned, "I been resting for two weeks I've had enough rest and I been away from Frodo too long if you ask me." He said curtly.  
  
He turned his gaze back to his master whose expression had not changed at all. Sam looked closely and thought it was like looking into a murky pond, not the clear image of what his master was. There was emptiness in his eyes and face, he was completely inanimate. Sam found himself grasping Frodo's bandaged hand and running his fingers along the fair skin. "Oh, Mr. Frodo," he whispered mournfully, "Oh master. Master! Why have you left me!" He buried his face in his hand and Frodo's and his shoulders heaved with sobbing.  
  
When he looked up there was still no change. Sam lifted his hands and chaffed his master's cheeks gently hopping to stir something, anything! inside of him. Sam turned Frodo's head gently so it faced him more and he was amazed at how easily Frodo surrendered his will to others.  
  
"His will is broken," said Merry as if he had read Sam's mind.  
  
Sam choked again, "Don't you know me, Frodo? It's Sam. *You're* Sam. Don't you know your Sam?"  
  
Frodo's eyes shifted slightly and rested on Sam but they seemed to pierce through him, go far beyond him. Merry and Pippin sighed but Sam did not turn away. He locked his gaze onto Frodo's eyes but it was useless, no sign of recognition, of even knowing that there was someone in front of him, touching his face. "How can you not know?" Sam whispered.  
  
Sam let his head fall onto the bed again and cried until his eyes burned and his tears ran out. His cries were interrupted by Merry and Pippin as he heard them faintly as if muffled by something and very far away. When he lifted his head he found that he was very dizzy and worn out from crying.  
  
"Gandalf!" cried Pippin.  
  
"Yes, Peregrin, it seems you did not think of coming to me when Samwise awoke."  
  
Sam's vision blurred, "Gandalf? You're alive?" he asked promptly forgetting his discussion with Pippin and Merry a few moments ago, his grief was far too great.  
  
"Yes you foolish gardener. I would think of an insult that would do your Gaffer proud if I weren't so overwrought by your hastiness in getting out of bed."  
  
Sam sobbed, "I'm sorry, Gandalf. I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"  
  
Gandalf paused and caught the grief-stricken hobbit. "Now, now lad! I did not mean to be so very harsh. I am sorry. You need rest and I hear you will not tolerate being away from your master so you may rest here if you like."  
  
"But Gandalf, Frodo's- he's" Sam collapsed into sobs and buried his face in the wizard's white robes. When he lifted his head he sniffled and looked up at Gandalf teary eyed, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"  
  
"Now lad I am not dissappointed in the least bit!"  
  
"But I failed you! I failed you! Failed you! I promised I wouldn't leave him! I promised I wouldn't lose him! And I did Mr.Gandalf, sir! I've lost him!"  
  
Gandalf gathered the shaking hobbit in his arms, "Sam I could not be more proud of you. You did everything you could for Frodo. You were a wonderful servent and none could ask for a better friend. You stuck by him, Samwise. Against all odds you kept him alive."  
  
"But now he's- he's- Broken! There's nothin' left of 'im!"  
  
Sam felt the world spin. Had he really cried all that much? He felt spent and his body sagged in Gandalf's arms. He lifted his head to look at the radiant white robes once more. "Oh-" he muttered, "I'm sorry. I've stained your white robes."  
  
Gandalf looked down at the sopping wet tear stains all along his robes. He suppressed a chuckled. "Samwise there is no need for you to ever be sorry. You should rest now."  
  
With that he laid Samwise under the blankets of the wide bed and tucked them around him warmly. "Get your rest, you also have had many trials and burdens to bear."  
  
"How did you know? I wore-" he suppressed a yawn.  
  
The wizard chuckled this time, "I have been by your bedside as well as Frodo's these past two weeks. You talk a lot in your sleep." He winked but the small hobbit did not see. Too overcome by grief and fatigue he let sleep take him.  
  
Meanwhile Gandalf gathered Merry and Pippin who seemed to have broken down into tears again and they huddled together closely. "Oh Gandalf!" Pippin cried, "He will never wake up, will he?"  
  
Gandalf turned to Frodo's still form but did not answer. "Come now let Samwise rest I'm sure both of them will find a great deal more peace now that they are together."  
  
Merry and Pippin nodded and Gandalf shooed them away not turning back to the figures in the bed. One propped like a limp doll, his dreamlike gaze frozen in an empty stare. One huddled amongst the covers sobbing profusely. 


	4. In Darkness Buried Deep

A/N: I am soooo very sorry everybody! This is terrible I'm never this slow with updates. My own novel is getting way out of hand where accuracy is becoming crucial. Ya know there are certain words I won't let myself use because I gotta consider when they were invented cause I can't use modern words! Yeah I'm a slave driver! Trust me you don't want me for a boss I'll wring your ass out for every detail. But as the Great Tolkien once said "oh what a tangled web they weave who try a new world to conceive!" This is true.  
  
Hmm maybe I didn't elaborate. I'm the reincarnation of Tolkien lol. I do hope you may all eventually forgive me for this delay I cannot blame my novel entirely for this. We are entering what is called in the theatre "Hell Week" in the school play which means I am at school from 8 in the morning until 11 at night if I'm lucky and Saturdays we build sets from noon until 5 so I'm a little tied up..  
Chapter 4: In Darkness Buried Deep  
Sam's eyes fluttered open and they were awfully swollen from crying. He rubbed them and found that they were sore to the touch. He looked around the tent for a moment trying to get his bearings. Everything was cast in shadow and he shivered, gripping the covers, as thoughts of that terrible place filled his mind. He squeaked with terror and trembled beneath the covers. Candles danced near him and the thought of fire and ash filled his mind until a sound came to his ears.  
  
"...Gamgee... Master Gamgee...wake up... your safe now..."  
  
He muffled another pathetic squeak and looked up. There stood the same young healer from before, white robes dancing around him in the fire light. His young face appeared concerned as it looked down on the hobbit. Sam looked around again and saw that the bed was empty. Suddenly memories of what had come to pass hit him and he sobbed.  
  
"Where's Mr. Frodo?" he whispered but did not look back up at Envin.  
  
"Why he's over there, sir, in the chair. I was giving him some treatment and I did not want to wake you, my lord."  
  
Sam shifted uneasily at the words 'sir' and 'my lord'. His eyes cast upon the forlorn figure in the corner. "Treatment?" said Sam shakily.  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"So there's hope?"  
  
"Well, sir, some think there is and some think there isn't."  
  
"Do you think there is?" Sam turned to Envin sharply and the young healer squirmed under that keen gaze. Envin blushed from ear to ear and looked at the ground still feeling pierced by the Pheriannath.  
  
"Why yes sir, I do. Not many do, I must be truthful, but I do, and Mithrandir and Lord Aragorn-"  
  
"*Lord*? Aragorn!"  
  
"Yes sir."  
  
"Are they all here then?" said Sam more to himself.  
  
"Sir?"  
  
"Oh never mind." Sam resolved to ask Pippin and Merry and get a straighter answer not riddled with 'sirs' and 'my lords'.  
  
Sam shifted and threw down the covers. He set his feet on the ground gently. For the first time, in waking, he realized how weary he was. Envin thought of protesting but he knew how stubborn this halfling was.  
  
Sam approached the chair silently and gazed up at his master, unchanged as before. Those sombre eyes saw threw him, did not even fight to recognized him any longer. Sam put a trembling hand to his mouth and blinked back tears. He found Envin at his side gazing reverently at his master.  
  
"What can I do?" said Sam and Envin noticed a stern, determined note in his voice.  
  
"Nothing comes to mind, sir. I'm using rather different treatment. I don't have herbs or strong concoctions of any sort. They are doing him no good. Those sort of things are used to heal the body. We have very few things that can heal the mind."  
  
Sam nodded and brushed his fingers along his master's cheek. "Maybe-" Envin began and Sam turned to him swiftly.  
  
"Yes!"  
  
Envin blushed at how quickly this lord among halflings was willing to heed his advice. Not many of the other healers took him seriously, being so young. "Well sir, I've been moving this candle across his range of sight, hoping he would react to the movement of the light. I've also been calling his name to see if he would react but so far, nothing. Maybe if he hears you calling to him, he may answer."  
  
Visions of the dark gloom of Cirith Ungol flashed by Sam's eyes and for a moment he was deaf and blind to everything around him. His face contorted with pain and his eyes widened. His hand flew to his heart to slow the quick beating and his body swayed. Images of slain orcs lying at his feet and himself sitting upon a stone singing solemnly because he had given up hope. He felt himself being lifted and Cirith Ungol disappeared. He looked up and found he was in Envin's arms.  
  
The healer was shaking with amazement as he lifted the Ring-bearer to his feet. Sam steadied himself and thanked Envin. He was then showered with a thousand 'much obliged' and 'no thanks needed sir'.  
  
"Might I-" Sam looked up at Envin sadly. "Might I sing to him."  
  
Envin nodded and picked up his candled from the table. He waved it slowly from side to side and Sam began to sing.  
  
In western lands beneath the Sun  
  
The flowers may rise in Spring,  
  
The trees may bud, the waters run,  
  
The merry finches sing.  
  
Or there maybe 'tis cloudless night  
  
And swaying beeches bear  
  
The Elven-stars as jewels white  
  
Amid their branching hair.  
  
Though here at journey's end I lie  
  
In darkness buried deep,  
  
Beyond all towers strong and high,  
  
Beyond all mountains steep,  
  
Above all shadows rides the Sun  
  
And Stars forever dwell;  
  
I will not say the Day is done,  
  
Nor bid the Stars farewell.  
  
Envin set down the candled and ran the back of his hand along his eyes. "Master Gamgee I have heard so many songs in my life and they were sung by many a minstrel. But, sir if I may make so bold as to say that that was wondrous."  
  
Sam blushed. He lifted his hand and brushed away one of Frodo's curls. "And here at journey's end I lie, in darkness buried deep." He whispered and Envin's heart broke.  
  
They went through the procedure a hundred times until Sam felt weary and his voice cracked. Envin helped him back to the bed and left for a brief time. Sam was alone except for Frodo, silent in his chair, staring dreamily into nothing. Sam sighed loudly and tears trickled down his cheeks unchecked. Nothing they did helped, not even Sam's singing brought Frodo back from the darkness now. He wondered if it was any use clinging to hope. Part of the old Sam Gamgee insisted that if they clung to hope long enough his master would return but another part of him, born from struggle, illness, and burden fell into submission.  
  
Envin returned with a tray full of an array of light foods and Sam was forced to look up from the bed sheet he was wringing and torturing between his hands. Envin set the sweet breads and tasty fruits in front of Sam and his eyes lit up though he tried to conceal it. Little did Envin know that such a small meal was a feast to this starved hobbit and Sam hesitated and looked up at Envin. He wanted to snatch the bread like some starved dog and shove it into his mouth without chewing but he tried to conceal his hunger. "Thank you, Envin," Sam mumbled, taking a loaf in his shaking hand.  
  
Envin bowed and returned to Frodo. Sam watched them out of the corner of his eye, his hands moving from the tray to his mouth unchecked. He chewed thoughtfully and forced himself to swallow over a lump in his throat. Envin was facing Frodo but Sam could see by the way the young healer hunched his back and bent over Frodo that he was not budging. He was an immovable force and would refuse to give up any hope at all. Sam's eyes twinkled in thanks and admiration of this young healer. If anyone could bring his master back it would be this young man.  
  
~~~  
  
Pippin and Merry peered in around noon and sat with Sam telling him of all their adventures with the Ents and their places as knights of Rohan and Gondor. They told him of Aragorn and that he would be crowned shortly and of Gimli's and Legolas' friendship. Merry explained to Sam about Pippin's march into battle and the cave troll. Pippin told Sam about Merry and Eowyn as they fought the Witchking. Once they had finished Sam shook his head in disbelief. "I do not believe a word of it," he laughed. "I'm seein' things I am. You're so tall and clad in all that fancy armor, nope my mind's made up, your are impostors and you're lyin' to me about the whole lot."  
  
Merry laughed, "Coming from a fellow conspirator, aye?"  
  
Sam's laughter died and he looked at Frodo and Envin sadly. "It was so long ago."  
  
Pippin leaned over and put his good arm around Sam's shoulders. "I know."  
  
"You've all changed so much." Sam bowed his head, "All of you. I feel so alone."  
  
"Now, Sam," whispered Merry. "You've changed too. Why you're not half the shy, timid hobbit you used to be. You're a hero now, Sam Gamgee, and get used to being treated like one."  
  
Sam turned away, "I'm no hero. I couldn't even protect my master."  
  
"Now Sam, you can't possibly blame yourself for this. We won't let you."  
  
Sam was silent. Pippin opened his mouth to say something but Gandalf came in at that moment. "Well, Sam, how are you faring?"  
  
Sam looked up and ran his hand along his eyes. "Alright, Mr. Gandalf."  
  
"I hope you are up to getting out and about today."  
  
"I suppose," said Sam curiously.  
  
Gandalf nodded his approval and motioned towards the tent flap. A man clad in Gondorian armor entered and bowed to Sam presenting a neat pile of clothes. "Gifts from the children of Gondor," laughed Gandalf.  
  
The man's eyes shone as he looked upon the Ring-bearer. "After all," Gandalf continued, "You cannot come to a ceremony in naught but your bed dressing."  
  
Sam smiled and thanked the man as he took the articles of clothing. Gandalf straightened and went on, "Your other clothes will find a place of honor, no doubt, even the orc rags. Pippin and Merry will help you get ready."  
  
Sam nodded, "What about Mr. Frodo."  
  
Gandalf glanced in the corner and then back at Sam, "He will not attend. These people hold him as a hero just like you, Samwise, and he is not ready to be put in the public's eye just yet."  
  
Sam nodded tearfully and Gandalf left. Merry and Pippin went about helping Sam in silence and Envin stayed by Frodo's side when he had finished his procedure. He waited in silence until Sam had finished and Merry and Pippin had left. He came to the bed and remade the linens quietly. He returned, carrying Frodo's limp body, and layed him down gently. Sam watched in tormented silence as Envin stripped his master and went about his ministrations to heal the terrible wounds on his back where the whips had lashed him. Envin then turned him around and tended to his chest which had been clawed at mercilessly when Frodo lost control under the eye. Sam watched as Envin's nimble hands massaged Frodo's stiff, cold shoulder, scarred from the Morgul blade. He rubbed a slick oil on the hobbit's chest to sooth his breathing and calm him. The scent was fresh and clean and Sam remembered the sweet smell of athelas.  
  
After that had been done Frodo was reclad in the long white shirt and his hand was unwrapped. Sam gasped at his missing finger and tried to hold in his tears as images of his master being thrown against the stone walls of the belly of Orodruin and his moment of madness. Envin heard the choked sob come from the other hobbit but pretended not to. Next was Frodo's head as Envin propped him into a sitting position and unwrapped the bandages. Envin was thankful that Sam did not follow him as he went around to the other side of the bed to tend the cut in the back of his head.  
  
Much of the hair at the base of Frodo's neck had fallen out because of the blow and it had left an open wound that went almost to the skull. It had definitely jolted his brain in a harmful way, Envin nodded to himself in agreement and Sam watched wide eyed. Before he could come to the conclusion on whether he truly wanted to see Envin had tended and rewrapped it and Sam let out a long sigh he wasn't even aware he was holding in. Frodo stayed unresponsive to all of his, his clouded eyes and pale face blank of all intelligence.  
  
Sam's knees trembled. This was the wisest hobbit he had ever met. This was the one he had looked up to all his life, who read to him when he was young, and helped teach him how to read and write. The hobbit that calmly held his fists when Sandyman made some cruel remark and coolly told Sam some words of wisdom. This was the hobbit that led him threw the back roads behind the shire and into the woods on cool autumn nights to tell him stories about elves and kings of old. This was the hobbit that had a library stacked with books and translations, who spoke the tongue of the elves and walked with dwarves along the outskirts of the shire. The hobbit that studied thousands of maps and settled petty disputes all around hobbiton that concerned the ownership of a pig or the plowing of land. A hobbit known for his wisdom that stretched far beyond his years.  
  
Before Sam knew it, he was on his knees, weeping, and Envin had helped him on the bed silently. He turned and saw Frodo beside him. Sam grit his teeth and pounded his fists together. This was no longer the hobbit he knew!  
  
Pippin and Merry entered the tent and helped Sam compose himself for the ceremony.  
A/N: Next chapter coming soon I promise this time! I owe you guys for that long delay. Don't expect much in the next chapter it may go a little off track but there are events that I must include and characters that cannot be just forgotten. Namarie! 


	5. Honour

Merry and Pippin led Sam out of the beechen grove and Sam thought he heard the rush of water but he shook his head. Many times during their travel in Mordor did he think he heard that sound and it turned out to be his mind tricking him. He almost cried at memories of him and Frodo trudging forward trying to shake the sounds of bubbling water or the smells of great feasts out of their heads. Sam paused for a moment, he realized, they had both truly gone mad in the end. Merry heard a sniffle beside him.  
  
"Do you think it is too soon?" whispered Merry to Pippin.  
  
Pippin glanced at Sam who seemed entranced by the blossoming world around him. He shook his head, "Aragorn would have it no other way. He wants Sam to be there."  
  
Sam did not hear but Merry and Pippin heard him muttering something to himself: "It cannot be true. None of this exists. It didn't before and it doesn't now."  
  
Pippin furrowed his eyebrows in worry, "Of course it's real, Sam."  
  
Sam fell to his knees and put his hands to his ears. "I don't hear you! You're tricking me again!"  
  
"Sam!" Pippin cried as the hobbit fell from his grasp and cowered on the ground.  
  
Merry braced his shoulders tightly forcing Sam to look up at him, "Come along, Sam, you know this is real."  
  
Sam's fearful eyes stared up at Merry and they immediately filled with tears, "No," He whispered, then more strongly, "No!"  
  
Sam jumped to his feet and started backing away. "You want me to take it from him! You'll tempt me! Well I won't do it, d'you hear! No matter what pleasant visions you give me! It's all a lie! This will not come true if I take it from him! It won't!"  
  
He broke down, burying his face in his knees. Merry was the first to reach his side, "Sam open your eyes."  
  
The hobbit just shook his head, his sandy curls bouncing in every which way. Pippin rubbed his shoulders soothingly, "You know it's all real, Sam, the Ring is destroyed."  
  
Sam looked up. "Yes... I remember..." His eyes shot from Pippin to Merry and back again. "He... he went mad... I tried to stop him... but... but it was too late... and Gollum... he..."  
  
Merry's eyes grew wide with fright. "Sam stop it!" He shook the frightened hobbit fiercely and Pippin had to snatch his cousin's arm to stop him.  
  
"Merry! What are you doing to him?"  
  
"It's not true!" cried Merry, now shaking himself, "It's not true! Frodo would never give in!"  
  
Pippin grabbed Merry, afraid he'd do something to hurt Sam, and held him tight. "Shh, Merry, whatever happened out there, he couldn't do anything to stop it. If he truly did claim the Ring, it wasn't our cousin. It was some monster inside of him."  
  
Sam watched in growing fright as the madness receded from his eyes. "Oh," he put a trembling hand to his mouth, "What have I said?"  
  
"Nothing to do any harm, Sam," said Pippin.  
  
"Mr. Merry I- I'm so sorry."  
  
Merry shook himself from Pippin's hold and tried to stay his shaking hands. "Let's just go, Sam," he said coldly snatching Sam by the arm none too gently. Pippin kept his eyes on Merry as he eased Sam off the ground and patted his back assuringly.  
  
~~~  
  
When they arrived Sam could hardly believe what he saw. There were armies of men clad in such royal armor that Sam had to rub his eyes and pinch himself quite a few times. Their helms shone in the morning sun and their banners flew high and freely in the fresh breeze. Upon one he saw a wondrous white tree branching out into several tiny stars and upon another a grand white horse galloping across a green landscape.  
  
"They won't never believe me when I tell them about this back home!" he muttered staring widely at the lines of men bowing to---- HIM! Blood rushed to his cheeks turning him a becoming shade of crimson all the way to the tips of his ears. He walked slowly, in a trance, Pippin guiding him by his left elbow and Merry walking at his right. Sam's eyes gazed at the gallant humans with awe, they were all so lordly and bowing to him! He could not believe it. He must be dreaming.  
  
They were approaching something now. A throne wrought of fresh mossy turves. Now Sam's eyes saw something he could never convince himself was true. There sat--- STRIDER! But it was not the rugged weather beaten man he saw in the shadows of the Prancing Pony. This was not the foul looking man he did not trust to guide them. Oh no! This man was of kingly stature, high upon this throne as if he were meant to be there all along. What amazed Sam even more was that his face was still kind and soft as he smiled down at Sam.  
  
Sam could only find himself murmuring aloud, "I must a' gotten hurt bad back there on that mountain. I'm not seein' this!"  
  
To astonish the hobbit even more this regal lord laughed and the laughter was the familiar warm sound that he had heard from the weather beaten man at the Prancing Pony. Once more this grand king rose from his throne and kneeled before Sam, smiling. "Dear Samwise, it's been a long way since the inn at Bree. Do you still not like the look of me?"  
  
Sam stuttered something inaudible and Aragorn laughed again. "My fine Master Gamgee!" He held out his hand and Sam found himself taking it and being seated upon the throne. If possible his face grew even hotter as he watched the King of Gondor bow before him and turn to his people his eyes filling with mirth, "Praise Samwise! Ringbearer! And savior of our land!"  
  
Aragorn turned to Sam who did not seem to notice the tears on his own cheeks. He put a hand on the hobbit's shoulder. "It is a welcome blessing that you are here before us, Sam, and these people wish to give you thanks for all you have done. But it is also an ill fate that Frodo is not."  
  
Sam nodded and choked slightly. Aragorn rose and turned back to his people. "Men of Gondor and men of Rohan you have your wish! He knows your thanks and welcomes your praise and you have set eyes upon your savior! Now go forth and live long and never let a day pass in your lives when you should not know and be thankful for the payment so that you may live and your children may live! For there have been grave sacrifices for those lives and I pray they were not in vain!"  
  
There was a long silence as the warm breeze ran through Aragorn hair and robes. His arms lowered and he breathed loudly. A small voice broke the silence and it seemed so frail upon the whisper of the breeze that many held their breath to hear it.  
  
"He is sad."  
  
Sam looked up from his previous stance of staring at his palms as tears slowly filled them and they lay limp in his lap. His face reddened even more as he saw a little child break through the crowd and tear away from her father's hold. She ran all the way to Aragorn's feet and paused looking up at the king in fear.  
  
"Lord Estel!" she cried clutching some little fur ball to her chest, "Master Samwise is crying!" She seemed very distraught by this and and warm smile returned to Aragorn's features.  
  
Her father finally reached the throne bowing immediately as he clutched his daughter to him. "My lord! Forgive her she did not know!"  
  
Aragorn's smile did not lessen, "Erian, this is your daughter."  
  
"Yes, my lord."  
  
"One of your sons is the healer for the Ringbearer is he not?"  
  
"Yes, my lord! But please do not take this out on him! I am at fault!" cried Erian holding his daughter close.  
  
"There is no fault here if Master Samwise is alright with speaking with the girl."  
  
Now all eyes were on Sam who had promptly begun to wring the end of his shirt. "No, sir, not at all." Sam wriggled off the throne and approached the little girl who was almost his own size.  
  
"What is your name?" he asked trying to keep his trembling voice in check.  
  
"I am Emarin, sir," she immediately attempted a clumsy curtsy and Sam suppressed a chuckle.  
  
"What have you got there?" He pointed to the fluff ball.  
  
"It's my kitten, sir." She held out her little gift and Sam watched in amazement as the tiny thing opened two little blue eyes and gazed up at him fearfully. "She's pretty."  
  
Emarin nodded, her dark curls bouncing, "My brother says you are to be spoken to like a king, but you are small like me."  
  
Sam laughed rather shakily this time. "I do not want to be spoken to like a king, miss. But when did your brother talk to you?"  
  
"My other brother, Emáten, he talks about you and Lord Frodo a lot. He's a soldier you know."  
  
Sam nodded, "So he is, well I know Envin but I haven't had the honour-"  
  
"-The honour would be mine sir!" One of the soldiers rose from his post and stood beside his sister.  
  
Sam was trembling uncontrollably now and Aragorn chose this time to step in. "Lord Samwise should rest now I hope you all do understand." He winked at Emarin when he said this and her father and brother led her away. Aragorn clapped and called for food and drink as a minstrel struck up a fine tune.  
  
Sam was lead back to the throne in a trance where he sat for a long while thinking deeply. He was rather unnerved by the whole affair trying to convince himself that it was real he did not realize Aragorn had left. He could feel himself being lifted and heard a voice at his side.  
  
"Fine thing this is! He speaks with that little girl before us!"  
  
"Gimli," came a fair voice trembling with a note of laughter.  
  
"Legolas? Gimli?" Sam opened his eyes.  
  
"Yes, Sam it's us," said the elf warmly.  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
Legolas gave Gimli a jab without rattling the frightened hobbit curled in his arms. "Oof... No need for apologies Samwise, quite alright!" Gimli corrected himself but Sam had fallen back into sleep and Legolas laughed lightly again.  
Ailsa Joy: Well Emáten is here, and I believe, my dear friend, that we have created quite the family here. ::smiles:: I hope you like them, all of them should be showin up again even Emarin and her little kitten.... 


	6. Healed

Sam awoke as he often did, groggy and stiff and wondering just where he was. He let out a shriek as he would sometimes do when the room was filled with darkness and Envin would be at his side convincing him that this was not Mordor. This time it had indeed grown worse as Sam shook and trembled Envin was trying to hold him still and whisper some words of encouragement to him when Sam thrust out an arm and elbowed him in the face. Envin went reeling and Sam slowly quieted realizing what he had done.  
  
"Oh! Envin! I'm sorry!" he cried as Envin slunk to the ground holding his head in his hands.  
  
"Quite alright, sir!" said Envin as he struggled to his feet. "No need to get up. I'm fine, it was an accident."  
  
"Oh Envin," Sam untangled his limbs from the sheets and came to the healer's side, "It was awful of me to do that. You look like you're gonna get a nice mark for it too."  
  
Envin patted his eye and winced. "It should turn a lovely shade of purple," he smiled blearily.  
  
"Oh Envin I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" cried Sam who, at that moment, burst into tears and buried his face in his hands. Envin tried to hide his shock at the hobbit's reaction to such a silly thing, but knowing, as a good healer should, that Sam's emotional state was far beyond fragile now, he just offered the hobbit some comfort.  
  
"Now Master Samwise, it doesn't even hurt any more, and it wasn't your fault. I understand what you are going through and I-"  
  
"How could you understand!?" Sam snapped, "What would you know about it at all!?" Still knowing that this was the trauma talking Envin took every one of Sam's harsh blows with a calm serenity. "You don't know what it was like out there! No food, no water!" Sam calmed his breath coming in ragged heaves as the fire died in his eyes.  
  
"I gave it all to him," Sam's voice was barely above a whisper now and Envin listened closely. "All that water until I had almost gone mad. I don't know how many days I went without it, I don't think I knew how long I could go, I just knew I had to. He needed it, I knew. But those days moved so slowly and then I had water again, just like that and I couldn't stop myself. I drank it and swallowed all that shame of drinking it!"  
  
"You needed to survive-"  
  
"HE! Needed to survive! I was there to make sure HE had it! Don't you see! I failed at that too! Add that to the list won't you!" His voiced calmed again, "I've failed at so many things." Sam's eyes cast on Frodo's limp form in the chair.  
  
"No matter how much you tell yourself that, Sam Gamgee, we all know you haven't."  
  
Sam's glare narrowed on Envin and the human stuggled under that keen stare. "We? Oh yes, all of *you* now know don't you! You all know about the journey of Frodo Nine-fingers and the Ring of Doom! Tell me, do you know the cruel wickedness of that- that THING he had to carry! It changes you! No, Envin I do not think you understand!" Sam's voice lowered once again and Envin wondered if the hobbit knew how to control his voice any more. It became old now, far beyond his years, rather shaky and fragile, "I am not the hobbit I was when I left on this quest... and neither is he..."  
  
"No," said Envin, thoughtfully. "No, I suppose you are not. I admit, the world has changed. You may not see it, but you can feel it. And I suppose a Pheriannath, such as yourself sir, would feel it stronger, or an elf."  
  
Sam blushed, "I'm not none o' those lordly soundin' things. I'm a hobbit."  
  
"Yes, so you like to call yourselves." Envin smiled breifly as he quoted Lord Peregrin.  
  
Sam nodded slightly and his eyes shifted around the room. They sought his master instinctively and found him in the old wicker chair once again. "Are you givin' 'im his treatment?"  
  
Envin sighed at the candle which had now burnt all the way down. He remembered how the other healers were scolding him. 'These ways of healing are unconventional.' 'Can't you see it is not working.' 'There is no hope.' 'We've never once been able to cure a patient from this.' So many hopeless doubts ran through his young head he wanted to scream, but keeping the quiet compossure as a doctor most definately should in front of a patient, he did none of the sort. Envin grasped Sam's hand and led him to his master's side. Sam gently stroked Frodo's pale hand between his and bit back tears. His eyes fell on the burnt out candle, smouldering in the shadows.  
  
"It's not workin' is it?" he said in a low voice.  
  
"No, sir. I've about given up hope with that method. We'll have to try another."  
  
Sam felt a pang in his heart. He resented this young healer's optimism. He reminded Sam of himself so long ago as they trudged through Mordor. Clinging to hope. Always clinging to hope. Did it ever pay off? No! Sam now resented himself for such anger he felt towards the one who could possibly heal his master. But there he went again with that hoping!  
  
Sam looked up at Envin who had began fondling the beginnings of a slight beard on his chin. He was young for a man, but Sam found himself touching his own chin at sight of the funny facial hair. Envin's eyes flashed as something registered upon his young features.  
  
"Sam... er I mean master... uh..." Envin bit his lip until it bled. He had fallen into a familiar reference in front of his better.  
  
Sam's eyes lit up, "No, don't! I like Sam just fine." Envin swallowed hard. There was something strange about calling this hobbit simply "Sam".  
  
"Ya see," Sam tried to explain, "In Hobbiton I never been a real gentle- hobbit. Me father was a gardener and his father before 'im. Me ol' Uncle Andy was simply a rope maker and a Gamgee 'as always been up in the gardens of Bag-End for o'er fifty years at least, leastways it counts up in me 'ead." Envin tried hard not to laugh for he knew nothing of Pheriannath edicate or class rank. He didn't even know what Bag-End was!  
  
"...Anyways," Sam continued, "Mr. Bilbo an' Mr. Frodo 'ave been me employers all me life and I was always their servant, Samwise Gamgee." Sam puffed out his chest proudly and Envin could not help a small smile. "Somethin' about callin' *me* 'Mr.' or 'Master' or 'Lord' an' all goes against the grain, if you follow."  
  
"Well, *Sam*," Envin still had to get used to the word all on its own. "Like you said, everything's changed. So has your title as I see it. You are no longer a simple gardener." At this Sam's face fell and Envin continued, undaunted. "But seeing is how all this change is so much on your shoulders, I think I can try and keep things the same for you. So around me and in this tent you are Samwise Gamgee faithful Gardener of Bag-End. Does that make you feel more comfortable?"  
  
Sam's face brightened like the sun. Yes, this was just what he wanted! He wanted things the way they were! Envin's face also brightened, for he silently knew that Samwise was finally cured. 


	7. Found

Frodo stirred. He lifted his aching head and there was a blinding flash in his vision. He reeled and hit the ground again. It was hard and very very cold. That flash was all around him, it was pain. He could see it and he could feel it tear through him right down to the center of his very bones. He cried out but his voice was swallowed by darkness. He looked around for a moment and let the throbbing agony settle. He could see nothing. Not even himself. Was it that dark? It appeared that the darkness was indeed thick. He could reach out a hand and touch it. But he could not see the hand. He could not feel the hand. Where was he? Who was he? He could not tell. He blinked a moment. This was all he knew. Of course, he knew no other existence but this. This was where he always lived, alone, forsaken. Forsaken by who? He pondered this a moment and the thoughts swirled all around him in a torrent of seering misery.  
  
He rose, or what felt like rising, and struggled forward. With every strive he felt another flash of pain and threw himself right back. He felt like he was suffocating, drowning, he gasped but got no air. Another struggle. Another failure resulting only in his anguish. He was trapped in midst of the merciless torrents of pain. All swirling through his mind. There was no escape from this. No getting used to it, for every time the blinding flash hit him it was born anew in his mind and he felt it just as strongly if not stronger than the first. He could not take this. He gasped but received no relief. Did he truly deserve this punishment? It was pure hell, pure anguish and self loathing. There was no room to breathe. There was never any one to help him. No one ever to pull him from the darkness. He was all alone, always alone. Was there any one else to begin with. He tried to call out but found he had no voice in this darkness. He existed only in emptyness. Only in anguish. He was truly a lowly creature. He sobbed quietly. Had he always lived like this? Was there never any other? He could not recall. Just him and he could not breath, he could not talk, he could not scream for all the anguish he was in. He was just there to suffer.  
  
~~~  
  
The clear eyes stayed unfocussed and the candle finally burnt away. Sam bit his lip to stop its trembling. "Sam this is not working," said Envin doubtfully. He turned and looked into the Pherrianath's eyes to see a silent plea swimming amongst the tears. Envin stiffened his back in resolute strength. "I will not give up, Samwise! You wait and see there is a way!" Sam nodded silently, not entirely in agreement but perhaps to show Envin that he trusted him and he did understand why the youth had such strong hope. Perhaps he could even find it in himself again. Indeed it seemed that after he became Samwise Gamgee, Frodo Baggins's servant, and faithful gardener of Bag-End, again, his old self was restored. He had Envin to thank for that. Even if all the world would call him 'Lord Samwise' or 'Samwise the Brave' if this one person called him just plain 'Samwise' he could find his old identity.  
  
"Do- do ya think he's in pain, Envin?" said Sam rather shakily.  
  
Envin furrowed his brow. "That's it Samwise!"  
  
Sam jolted and stared at the man like a frightened rabbit. Envin bent down to seem less menacing. "I think I've got an idea. But it's up to you, Sam. Only you can say alright, and if you don't then we won't do it."  
  
Sam nodded, not liking where this was going.  
  
"Perhaps if we- if we could get him to respond- to- to something. But it'd have to be some kind of instinct. Some kind of stimulation. Sam you'll have to trust me. Do you trust me?"  
  
Sam searched the young man's face for a moment then nodded. It felt strange. Often when it came to his master he trusted no one but himself. That's the way it always had been. But now a change was needed. Sam had to trust him. He saw the healer reached into a burlap bag lost among his herbs and other healing concoctions. He pulled out a thin blade. Sam felt bile rise in his throat and he shouted horsely.  
  
"No wait just a minute!"  
  
"You must trust me."  
  
Envin examined the blade and it flickered brightly in the firelight. It was very thin and spotless. Envin held it in front of Frodo's range of sight and flickered the light in his eyes. There was no response. He reached out and grabbed Frodo's limp arm. Frodo surrendered his will to the healer and the arm rose. Envin picked a clean spot, far from any vital veins or arteries. Quick as silver lightning the blade swiped at the fair skin. The cut was so clean and quick Sam thought that Enivn had missed his master. But soo enough a red line could be seen growing on Frodo's arm. It bulged and a small crimson droplet ran down his pale arm. The brilliant red against the fair, milky skin was frightening to see. Sam let out a breath he did not know he was holding and he could taste the bile in his throat. He thought he saw something focus in Frodo's eyes, something look straight at him, but then it flickered away and he saw that the candle light was playing off of his master's fine features. He finally came to his senses.  
  
"What are you doing!" he finally cried as Envin took out a rag and cleaned and dressed the small wound. He examined Frodo's blank expression and saw nothing. He felt the Ring-bearer's wrists and smiled. "His pulse has quickened."  
  
"What does that mean?" Sam questioned warily.  
  
"It means, dear Samwise, that he felt it! He is not all gone! He now recognizes that he indeed does have an arm!"  
  
Sam burst into tears. A flicker of hope sparked inside of him and began a blaze. It was frightful that such a small thing, something even tiny infants knew from the moment they were born, Frodo did not know. He had an arm. He could feel in that arm. He did exist. Maybe soon he would realize that something *someone* around him existed! Maybe! Maybe just maybe one day he'll come back! Would it be so slow? Right now, speed did not matter, Sam would wait an age and a half. If his master could come back he'd make sure he would!  
  
~~~  
  
Frodo awoke again, at least it was the feeling of consciousness. But he was not conscious in the least bit. He looked around and he was still in the place of pain. But something had happened. There was a light. He could not tell from where but it flickered all around him. It was so very strange to him that he closed his eyes and hoped it would leave. He had learned that light often meant pain. He attempted to make himself as small as possible but such physical actions could not be done in one's mind. He looked again but all he saw was the thick darkness. He waited and the silence burned his ears while the stillness froze his bones. Everything was anguish and he would scream if he could.  
  
There it was again. Things moved unnaturally slow. The flash came by and then left in a strange motion. It seemed to be coming from outside. He rose and strove forward slowly and warily. It was as if trying to move from inside a hard stone. It was just not possible. Every movement felt as if it were his last. As if finally everything would just shatter into nonexistance. But he had to see what this was. Again it roved passed him and he fell from the shock of seeing it. That was it. He could not go anymore. He was breathless. He was drowning and it all hurt so very much.  
  
It was then that he thought he had given up when something happened. The darkness shrank back as water being washed away. He was alone in emptyness but not for long. There was another flash and for the smallest, shortest moment he saw something. Some strange creature. He had never seen anything like it before. He could not even describe it in his head. He did not know if it looked like him or not for he could not see himself. All Frodo could detect was the look of befuddled confusion and fear in his features. He was looking at something Frodo could not see. Then Frodo saw it. Or he thought he did. It was an arm. Yes that was the word. Wasn't it? His arm, a small rivulet of blood, blood? Yes blood he could remember that all too clearly. It was on the pale arm. But it was all gone before Frodo could recount it all in his mind and the dark waters returned to drown him. But this was a gasp of air. Just a gasp but it kept him alive. Hope flickered in him but was washed away. It was that moment that kept him fighting. As every second passed him he doubted the moments existence. The only proof was that he had another breath of air left in him. Oh his heart could not comprehend such joy! No, joy did not exist. There was no such thing! It was a trick. There was only pain. Even now he could feel it returning obliterating that foolish moment when he thought another creature existed.  
  
Amongst the unnending pain Frodo sensed something. An odd sensation, that of a light tingle and a gentle throb. But it was not there. Not in this strange place. It was from somewhere outside. He could feel it. He strove for it. He lived to feel it again. He could feel something outside his prison walls. It dawned upon him. His body! He could feel it! Just a gentle tingle somewhere on his arm. But it was there! It existed! He cried with joy. Yes joy! It was joy! And he did exist! There was something out there. There was an out there! Such thoughts swirled in his mind. Too simple to comprehend anything else he dwelled upon this thought. Held it close. Thing's existed! They were a part of him. He existed outside of this dark room. And some creature was out there too. A sad little thing. Frodo tried to picture it again, but could not. 


	8. Author's Note!

Guess what everyone! It's March 12 and that means ITS MY BIRTHDAY!  
  
And now I shall launch into a ridiculous speech... ::clears throat::  
  
My dear reviewers... My dear Ailsa Joys and chibi nekos, and my dear CStinis and Shlee Verdes, and aelfgifus, and Lady Lauras, QTPie-2488s, Bethy the Vampire Slayers, Elbereths, Bookworm2000s, crazytooks, Olivias, Tsevis, Ariels, Herald7s, Lady Jainas, Tersas, and ShireElfs...  
  
"That's ShireElves!" ::shouts a voice from the audiance::  
  
ShireElfs! I shall not keep you long. I have called you all here for a purpose. Indeed for three purposes! First of all I am immensely fond of you all, and that ::coughs:: these few weeks is too short a time to write among such excellent and admirable hobbits.. er I mean readers!  
  
I don't know half of you as well as I should like; and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve!  
  
Secondly to celebrate my birthday! Yeah I don't have an attractive... er I mean innocent little heir so it's just me.  
  
And lastly! So that I may tell you that I have decided to celebrate in the true hobbit tradition! (If you haven't noticed) Yes I shall be giving YOU a gift. Not one but two new chapters will be added to my story so please enjoy! I'm going now! GOODBYE!  
::poof:: 


	9. Conflict

Sam awoke to the muffled sounds of raised voices. He blinked a moment and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, then sat up. He no longer had to be dragged out of Mordor, he found peace in sleep now, though often troubled by disturbing dreams. That's all they were now. Dreams. He did not have to live them. He clutched the covers and stared at his master. But Frodo did, and Sam felt his heart torn at the thought of what kind of reality Frodo had to live. Suddenly there was another shout and Sam recognized Envin's voice.  
  
"...I've got a response! If you would just..."  
  
"We are moving you to other patients," said a cold, stiff voice. "There are wounded soldiers that need you."  
  
"...He needs me!!"  
  
"Don't you start with that! You are too young to-"  
  
"In all of my youth I have tended more patients than you!"  
  
"You've never encountered a patient such as this! You cannot hope to-"  
  
"Don't you tell me what I can and cannot do!"  
  
Could that voice have truly been Envin's. It was so calm and gentle in front of Sam. He imagined as a healer he had schooled his voice to do such. But this was a frightening change. He did not know such a seemingly gentle introvert could be so fierce. The voices returned to Sam's ears as they rose over the thick confines of the tent.  
  
"...call the guards if you have another outburst like that..."  
  
"Call them! I shall not budge! This is my case and I'm at will whether I shall abandon it or not!"  
  
"Just because your brother is a soldier do not think they will be leanient towards you!"  
  
"I do not ask for any such thing and leave my family out of this."  
  
"It is because of your father you are even here!"  
  
"I owe to him all of my healing knowledge speak not of my father with such a tone!"  
  
"Oh yes all of your healing knowledge!" This tone was in mock. "If you wish to be a respectable healer you should abandon all of these silly treatments any way. And if you take a knife to a patient again I'll see your own throat cut!"  
  
"Cut it!"  
  
"This is your problem, Envin, you think nothing out! Did not you anticipate the conciquences of such an absurd action! You cut him!"  
  
"I knew the conciquences and I know what I am doing!"  
  
"You do not use your head, Envin! You half-wise simpleton!"  
  
This was enough for Sam's ears. He jumped out of the bed and burst out of the tent still in his bed dressings. Envin spun around and began walking away, not even noticing Sam underfoot when something yanked his hair an he fell back. Sam stared in wide eyed shock as Envin struggled to his knees and was served a kick to the side. He doubled over and fought to stand again, his white robes full of dust from the road. The other healer glared down at him his face stoney and cold. When Envin rose he just stared at the man and stayed his fists. "I will not hit you," he muttered. Fire raged in the other healers eyes as he served Envin a punch in the jaw. The young man fell to the dust again and Sam spun around and ran back to the camp calling for help.  
  
~~~  
  
Emáten was sitting in front of his tent fondling the bandage on his arm. He remembered the battle rather hazily. Just the arrow that pierced his arm and a dull blow to his head that sent him to the ground. He stared at the grass shamefully. Surely he had killed scores of the enemy but to be carried away and tended by his own younger brother was humiliation. He had always seen himself as a rather good soldier but did not see his performance good enough to be rewarded by the king himself. Indeed he had been at a ceremony for the men that showed strength and bravery in battle.  
  
He continued to berate himself when he saw a small child running in the distance. He squinted and noticed it was Samwise, Ringbearer. He stood abruptly and the small hobbit halted panting at his feet. Emáten was so confused he fell to his knees and bowed his head. "Lord Samwise! What brings you here?"  
  
"...Envin..." Sam gasped, "...come... come..." He turned back around and began the dash back to Frodo's tent. Emáten was at his heals.  
  
~~~  
  
When the pair reached the tent Envin was alone, sitting in the midst of the dusty road. Emáten shot to his side. "Brother, what happened?"  
  
"They want me home, Emáten. They say I am not fit to tend the Ringbearer and that I should return with Father and Emarin."  
  
"Why!" Emáten exploded, knowing that his brother was a fine healer. "Is the treatment not working?"  
  
"That's just it. I got a response. A small one but it's a start. They just- well I shouldn't have-"  
  
"You did everything I told you," said Sam and the two men turned to him. "I let you do it, you said it was my choice, right?"  
  
Envin nodded.  
  
"Then it was all my doin'. I'll tell them that. And I'll tell 'em that I will only have you tendin' my Mr. Frodo. After all I am *Lord* Samwise." Sam smiled slightly but the jest in his words could not be detected in his voice. He seemed very drained and his face was flushed. His lank curls fell limp with sweat and he leaned on a slender tree for support.  
  
Envin rose, "Emáten help him back to bed."  
  
Emáten glanced at Sam and blushed feeling awkward at carrying the Ringbearer. "Here we are, sir, tell me if you're not comfortable, sir."  
  
Envin glanced over his brother's shoulders and pulled a face for the sole purpose to make Sam laugh. It worked. He truly was a healer at heart. Emáten looked confused as he carried a chuckling Sam back into the tent, trying not to stumble over his own feet. Envin paused a moment, a look of fatigue crossed his features and he slumped his shoulders. Keeping up this act to heal Sam was a terrible drain on him. When he saw the two disappear he sighed and straightened. He wiped his face clean and entered the tent.  
  
~~~  
  
Emáten had gone to get Lord Aragorn as Envin helped Sam clean up. He was covered in dust and sweat and he would not stop panting. His body had not been so overworked in the past couple weaks and it was taking a terrible toll. Despite his weakness Sam's spirits stayed high and even his voice began to tremble and heave. Envin tried to make him go to sleep but he insisted on waiting for Aragorn to tell him everything.  
  
"You should get some rest, Sam, unless you want to completely reverse my hard work."  
  
"N- now don'- don't you go makin'- m- me feel g- guilty an' such," said Sam trembling from the dry heaves.  
  
"You sound terrible," Envin jested wiping the hobbit's face clean with a warm rag.  
  
Sam leaned back amongst the pillows, the warm water felt good and he sighed trying to stop his hiccoughing. "Y- you l- look te- terrible," said Sam with a smirk as he opened one eye to peer at the dissheveled healer. Envin laughed. "An'- and that eye I th- throttled is changin' c- colors."  
  
Envin laughed and wrung out the cloth. He set it back on the bowl and leaned back. Sam made to sit up but Envin pressed his hands sternly on the hobbit's shoulders. "Shh, just try and breathe right now. Don't stress yourself." He reached down and grabbed Sam's hand. He pressed his fingers at his wrist and counted to himself. "And your heart is pumping too quickly."  
  
"T- too quickly?"  
  
"Yes. I'm surprised you didn't pass out. Do you feel light headed at all?"  
  
Sam seemed to think a moment then nodded. "And k- kinda dizzy."  
  
"I'll pour you a glass of water. You don't get up." He said sternly getting up to pour the water. As he lifted the pitcher his eyes met the still figure on the chair. He looked into the pitcher and saw the water shimmer in the fire light. An idea struck him and he took Frodo's hand. He poured the water into it and let it splash onto the floor. He noticed Frodo took a shaky breath, almost a gasp and he smiled. "I have a response," he whispered.  
  
Sam peeked open an eye. "H- hey you're n-not supposed to do th- the treatment with- without me."  
  
Envin turned to Sam with a smile. "There's more hope than I thought."  
  
The hobbit sighed contentedly. "Th- that's me Mr. Fr- Frodo. He don'- don't ever g- give up."  
  
"No," whispered Envin thoughtully, "Hobbit's don't seem to do that easily."  
  
It was then that Aragorn entered the tent gracefully followed by three shadows, one bigger than the rest. Envin laughed at his brother as he followed the anxious hobbits. "What's all this, now?" said Aragorn warmly, putting his palm to Sam's forehead. The hobbit sighed and felt the warm healing powers of the king rush through him.  
  
"My lord," said Envin, bowing, "The healers want me to abandon Master Frodo and Master Samwise but I cannot do that."  
  
"And why not? Certainly the other soldiers need your healing hands, Envin."  
  
"I am dedicated to the Ringbearers, my lord."  
  
Sam stirred trying to stay awake, "I won't have any other healer on me master," he said, his voice calmer now.  
  
"Oh?" said Aragorn, raising an eyebrow. "I was hoping you would. Elrond will be arriving shortly."  
  
Sam took a shaky breath, "Elrond? The elf lord? Coming to tend Mr. Frodo again?!"  
  
"Yes, Sam, he knows how to enter Frodo's mind and find him, wherever he may be lost. He found him once he'll find him again."  
  
Tears filled Sam's eyes, "Oh, Strider there's hope! Just like last time! We'll find him again!"  
  
Envin smiled blearily. "I suppose my services will no longer be needed?"  
  
"No, Envin," said Aragorn, "You may still tend Frodo until he is cured, by your hands or anothers. Elrond's healing skills go far beyond even my own. Unless you can give me a reason that makes you unfit to tend him?"  
  
Envin bowed his head, "My treatment is-"  
  
"It already has my approval!" cried Sam and Aragorn raised his eyebrows at Sam again.  
  
"It took *me* a good deal longer to gain your trust, Samwise." Sam blushed furiously.  
  
Envin continued after a short pause. "I cut him. But I cleaned and dressed the wound. I cut with a surgical knife and made the wound clean and proper."  
  
"What did you hope to accomplish?"  
  
"A reaction. And I got it, my lord. Please, sir, I know this is questionable but it's worked!"  
  
Aragorn glanced from Sam to Envin then turned to Frodo. He approached the hobbit and gazed into his dazed expression. He reached for the hobbit's arm and unfastenned the bandages. He examined the cut and nodded. "It's clean. But you must be sure he does not lose a lot of blood."  
  
"I was, my lord."  
  
"He does not seem changed."  
  
"His pulse quickened and when I poured water into that hand he gasped before."  
  
"He what!?" cried Pippin as he ran to his cousin. "He spoke- that is to say he- well he- he reacted?" Tears filled the young hobbit's eyes as he held his limp cousin tightly. "Oh Frodo you can make it! Please!" The hobbit in his arms did not blink, just fell into the embrace limply, arms dangling as that of a rag doll. His curly head fell to Pippin's shoulder and lay to rest as his eyes stared dreamily into the abyss. Merry put a hand on Pippin's shoulder and helped prop Frodo back up. Frodo's mouth had fallen partly open as if he were caught in that gasp, the moment water touched his hand. His hand was still wet and upturned as if cupping a trickling stream. He seemed so utterly shocked at something that happened quite a long time ago, his face caught in a dreamy yet startled expression. It was no longer blank and emotionless. Soon his face would fall and his hand would relax as all muscles must do, his expression would turn back to it's witless dreamy state and the existance of expression would no longer exist. Pippin was just overjoyed to see it. Merry let tears fall unchecked.  
  
"Do you think Elrond can bring him back?" whispered Pippin to no one in particular.  
  
"Keep hope, cousin Took, keep hope," answered Merry. 


	10. Return

Sam sat silently outside camp, the icy breeze cutting him. The morning had barely dawned and the whispers of winter still clung to the early hours. He pulled his cloak around himself and hugged his arms, shaking fiercely. He jutted out his lower lip to stay his chattering teeth and narrowed his eyes against the wind. From another's perspective he had the look of resolve upon his shaking features. He was determined and stubborn and refused to move an inch.  
  
It was against Envin's better judgement to let the little hobbit out into the cold so early but Sam would not be swayed. He sat all alone on that cold stone and refused to budge until Lord Elrond came. Gandalf had called him a foolish hobbit and Aragorn himself forbade it. But Sam did not care. If this was his master's only hope he'd wait till the very sun fell out of the sky if he must. After an hour or so Merry and Pippin came by to keep him company. Pippin siddled close to his left and Merry to his right squishing him between the two giant hobbits but he had to admit they did warm him up. After a while Pippin began to shiver so violently Merry had to take him in. The young hobbit was still weak from his own injuries and blood loss.  
  
Sam was alone once again and he could feel the cold seeping into every pour of his body. Even the roots of his hair seemed to stand on end. His skin felt parched and frozen like brittle paper and he had to moisten his lips every so often to keep them from cracking. He felt almost weary from the cold and it made his mind drift in and out slowly. He vaguely remembered feeling like this before, at the foot of Mount Doom, dehydrated and half mad. He had thought he was dreaming when he felt something thick and heavy bear down on his shoulders and huge arms wrap around him. He fought weakly but his movements were slow and weak as a kitten's. He finally gave in and let whatever giant creature hold him close. He had to admit it felt warm and he snuggled against the fur.  
  
When Sam awoke the blush of sunlight was painted along the sky and he felt a bit of warm sun touch his frozen face. He felt grey and dark as color slowly seeped back into his skin. He suddenly became aware of something and he sat up quickly and looked over him. There sat a very confused Emáten holding a thick fur blanket that had been on Sam's shoulders.  
  
"Oh Emáten, it's you," said Sam putting his hand to his quickly beating heart.  
  
"Yes sir," Emáten blushed feeling foolish for startling the hobbit, "You looked so cold, and I found this blanket for you. You kept shivering so I held it tight. I hope you don't mind sir. I didn't mean to startle you."  
  
"No no," said Sam, "I think I would 'ave frozen to death if you didn't come along."  
  
"Truth is, sir, Lord Aragorn is none too pleased with you he sent me to get you. But I didn't want to go against your wishes, and I didn't want to go against his, so I brought this blanket and tried to keep you warm, sir."  
  
Sam chuckled. "Thank you, Emáten, I do feel better now." He yawned. "Oh! But what is the time!"  
  
"Nearly noon, sir. The elves have not arrived yet, but I'll go now if you like.You can keep the blanket."  
  
"No, I rather like the company."  
  
Emáten blushed again. "Thank you, sir." Sam sat back down on the stone, now warmed by the rising sun. He smiled and turned his face to her golden glow. Emáten watched in wonder as this hobbit nearly bloomed before him at the mere ray of sunshine. They truly were amazing creatures. They lived on golden sunshine and good tilled earth and eveyrthing green. How did these little things survive that desolate wasteland! Emáten was broken from his reverie by Sam's voice calling with joy.  
  
"They're here! Master Elrond! Lady Arwen!"  
  
~~~  
  
Sam had practically run under the horses' hooves, to much annoyance of the horses, and Elrond had to rear the steed so that he would not trample the tiny hobbit. The horse snorted moodily and Elrond laughed aloud reaching down and grasping Sam from under the arms and sitting him, gently, down in front of him. Sam blushed seeing his childish excitement but the elf only laughed and greeted him warmly.  
  
Emáten watched in wonder and helped some of the elves with the horses. He helped bring them to the stables and turned to look over his shoulder as he saw Samwise upon the steed of the elf lord. He tripped over his own feet (much to the amusement of the flawless elves) and blushed furiously.  
  
"So Samwise," said Elrond, "We meet again, but is it true? I do not believe it. You have left your master's side for a single moment."  
  
"Elrond, Frodo, he's-"  
  
"Shh, I know. Estel sent me a message and I came as quickly as possible. I also read that Aragorn is quite astonished that you have put such faith in the current healer. Is it true that you said you would have no other or is my foster son pulling wool over my eyes?"  
  
Sam smiled slightly, "He is tending Mr. Frodo now."  
  
"But Samwise I cannot comprehend this. You followed him like a little shadow, avoided my own eyes in that corner during the council. You didn't even trust me when he was wounded by that Morgul blade and now you sit on a cold stone and wait for me all morning while someone else tends your Mr. Frodo."  
  
Sam blushed furiously, "I wasn't sittin' th- there all morning."  
  
"Don't lie to me Master Gamgee. I can see by the flush in your cheeks and the pink in your nose you've either been at the king's wine or you've been freezing yourself out here." At that remark Sam turned even redder and (much to his further embarassment) sneezed. "See," Elrond laughed, "You have been freezing yourself."  
  
"Father stop teasing him." There came a light peel of laughter beside the blushing hobbit and Sam turned to see Lady Arwen riding beside him. She sat upon a glorious white steed with deep blue silks flowing over her arms and a thin veil studded with stars over the dark shadows of her hair. Her eyes twinkled with the light of stars and Sam almost gasped at her long forgotten beauty. He was rendered speechless which only brought more musical laughter from the elf lady. "Do you think he remembers me, Father?"  
  
Sam mumbled something inaudible and Arwen leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "It is my greatest joy to see you alive and well again Samwise, always the bravest of hobbits."  
  
If Sam could have he would have turned even redder but he thanked Elbereth there was no such shade for it would have truly been humiliating. He already looked like a vibrant little rosebud. "I'm not that, Lady Arwen," he managed to mumble.  
  
She looked sincerely shocked, "How so Samwise? Ever since I saw you, following your sick master as he was carried from the horse up to the chambers I knew you were brave. Brave and loyal to you master. I saw such a good heart in there, I knew you were meant for this quest since the first time I layed eyes on you."  
  
Sam turned his head down, "My Lady I haven't done a very good job of sticking by him."  
  
"Samwise! You must stop this foolishness. Without you he would have been dead long ago. Perhaps ever since the ford. You stayed with him and he always knew you were there. When all the world was dark to him, when everything had broken, you were still there." She put her fair, slender hand under his chin and felt hot tears gathering on his cheeks. "Sam, Bravest of Hobbits, Stoutest of Hearts, you will find him again. I know it." She pulled a white jewel from the silver bag hanging from her horse's neck. "Whenever you feel that all is lost, that your master is lost to you forever, hold this tight and think of me. You will find you courage and your hope again. I trust you Samwise. And when you left on that quest I told my father, 'Frodo will make it. They'll get through. Because Samwise Gamgee will see it done.' And I haven't been wrong yet."  
  
"Thank you Lady Arwen!" said Sam, flustered with tears and thanks as he gently grasped the jewel.  
  
"You deserve no less, Samwise." With that she pulled her veil over her head and rode away.  
  
Sam squeaked as words caught in his throat and Elrond leaned over and whispered in his ear. "She is going to see Aragorn. We will go straight to Frodo's tent and see what I can do."  
  
Sam nodded and watched as Arwen's horse disappeared over the hills.  
  
~~~  
  
Elrond stepped into the tent with Sam at his heals. Envin was holding out his surgical knife and flickered the light in Frodo's eyes. Elrond watched in silence and Sam peered out from behind his legs. He said nothing.  
  
Envin flickered the knife a few times to show Frodo what it was. He got no response. He held up Frodo's arm once more and raised the knife making sure it was in Frodo's line of sight the entire time. Swiftly he made a clean cut just below the old one and let a small drop of blood slide down Frodo's pale arm. The hobbit almost flinched at the sting. Envin set the knife down and lifted some cool water, ointment, and bandages to clean and heal the wound. When he was done wrapping he unwrapped the old one which had healed completely by now. He was finally aware of his audiance when he heard a little sneeze and a sniffle behind him.  
  
Elrond chose this time to come forward. "Interesting treatment you have," said Elrond with a calm serenity.  
  
Envin jolted at the unexpected intruder and gasped as he first layed eyes on an elf. He bowed low, "You must be Lord Elrond! I am honoured my lord! Your healing skills are well known even by my people."  
  
"The honour is mine for I hear that Samwise will have no other healer on his master but you so you clearly must be the best. Even better than I if *Samwise* will only have you. Indeed your skills must exeed that of all the Valar, please might I learn from you."  
  
During this ridiculous speech Envin turned many interesting shades as well as Sam and Elrond did enjoy the jest. "M- my Lord-" Envin began tentatively, "I think you may be mistaken."  
  
Elrond smiled slightly then stepped forward. He examined Frodo with his keen grey eyes and Envin stepped back and stood beside Sam, watching intently. Minutes seemed to pass like hours as the great elven healer checked Frodo's pulse, breathing, eyes, and ears. "Come," he said quietly and his tone took to a low serious note. "We must bring him over to the bed."  
  
Envin hurried over to the bed and layed down a fresh sheet. He propped up the pillows as Elrond carried the limp hobbit over. He layed Frodo out silently setting his soft curls on the pillow. He ran his finger tips over the hobbit's eyelids and they closed calmly. Elrond sat himself down next to him and pressed his slender hand to Frodo's forehead. Sam and Envin felt a heavy air lift from the room and they both sighed simultaniously. The elflord closed his eyes and pressed his hand firmer to Frodo's forehead.  
  
Envin watched in amazement and saw a fine ring upon the third finger. His eyes sparkled with wonder as a light seemed to come from the blue stone and took a shaky breath. Elf magic! He'd never seen it before and nothing he ever heard could have prepared him for this. Sam seemed equally stupefied.  
  
~~~  
  
Elrond found himself lost in a dark nothingness. "This must be where he is." Thought Elrond, and his thoughts blazed like a beacon through the darkness. Light ignited from his very being and intruded the darkness. He heard a yelp and turned around. There sat a frail creature, huddled into a ball and trembling. "Frodo?" There was no answer but the little creature tried to escape the light that came from the frightening elf. He looked up shaking violently, wide eyes stared at the elf full of confusion and fright. He backed away slightly but knew he was trapped. *Where did this frightening thing come from!? Didn't only he exist?* The frail looking thing backed away from the light.  
  
"No, Frodo," said Elrond softly, "I'm here to help you."  
  
Like a little child, Frodo cocked his head and rubbed his arms as if trying to warm himself. He did not speak it seemed as if he could not. Elrond already knew it would be different than last time. This may be even beyond his skills. But he reached out nonetheless and Frodo seemed to smile at seeing something familiar. That was an arm wasn't it? He knew what those were. He felt like a simple child rewarded for doing something good. He reached out his own arm and took the elf's hand.  
  
"Come, Frodo, do not be frightened. I'll lead you out of here."  
  
The little hobbit did not seem aware that the elf was talking but followed nonetheless.  
  
~~~  
  
Elrond opened his eyes and blinked the world into focus. Before him sat the dazed hobbit and he blinked as well. Once. Twice. Three times. He turned his head but he seemed to have to concentrate hard to perform the action. His gaze settled on Envin and Sam who watched in shock and wonder. His master was back! 


	11. Simple

A/N ::laughs maniacally:: eh heh heh heh you think Frodo is back... You don't know the sadistic, evil writer lurking inside of me do you. ::laughs again:: Well tonight was opening night for the school play and I thought that since I'm all hyped up any way I'd write another chapter. Enjoy. ::walks away laughing::  
  
~~~  
  
Sam let out a loud breath and cried out. He ran to the bed, tripping and stumbling, blinded by tears. "Mr. Frodo! I can't believe it! Bless you! You're back!"  
  
Sam did not get the reaction he wanted. Frodo's eyes widened in fright and he dodged under the covers in a wild panic. Sam stopped in his tracks and gripped the bed to keep himself from passing out, he felt very dizzy. Envin picked up Sam and Elrond pried Frodo from under the covers. Sam was sat on the chair and Frodo made a strangled sound in his throat to get far away from Elrond. Elrond let him go and the hobbit clutched the covers and trembled. He did not seem to know where he was or who he was with. He did not even seem capable of talking.  
  
Sam watched from the chair where Envin handed him a cup of warmed water and bade him to sit still. For once Sam obeyed, knowing his wobbly legs could not support his weight anyway.  
  
Elrond sat next to Sam and began to explain: "Sam I knew this would be difficult. This is still not your master. I don't know where Frodo truly went. I just gave him back his will. He is no longer subject to another's will. He can move how he wishes and even think. If he can think then he can learn, Sam. You can teach him to be Frodo again. Perhaps in time he'll remember. But before we would not have been able to get him back. The Ring broke his will Sam, he was under the sway of anyone or anything that wished to steer him. I suppose he didn't even have it at Mount Doom, did he?"  
  
Sam swallowed his water, finally beginning to understand. "That's who it was. The Ring was steering him and without it he had nothing to control him."  
  
Elrond nodded, "He was a puppet without a master."  
  
"He did look like a doll." Sam glanced at his trembling master, eyes darting about the room wildly. "Like a little rag doll who's strings had been cut."  
  
"Well now he has a will. And where there's a will, Sam, there's a way." Elrond smiled. "He'll find his way back I just had to give him a torch to go by. The dark isn't so scary when you have a light."  
  
"But he seems so scared."  
  
"He is. You have to teach him not to be. He is like a child. He has to learn now that he is capable of it."  
  
Just then Emáten bounded into the tent. "Lord Elrond! The horses are getting riled. I believe they do not like the soldier's horses much. They refuse to go into the stables. We need you my lord."  
  
Elrond sighed and came to his feet. "Remember, Samwise, keep hope and the dark will never overcome it." With that he bade farewell to Envin and hoped to see him again. Envin bowed low and blushed as the elflord left the tent, Emáten at his heals.  
  
Envin breathed heavily and turned to the frightened creature on the bed. Sam got to his feet cautiously and approached slowly. Frodo was jerking his head around quickly darting his eyes from one part of the tent to another. They passed by Sam a few times before they finally came to rest on him and Frodo stood stock still like a coney knowing he's about to be pounced on. His fingers twitched on the covers preparing some wild attempt for escape.  
  
Sam noticed the wild look in his eyes and stopped. He held up a hand to signal Envin to do the same. "Mr. Frodo?" Sam murmered lightly. The hobbit before him did not respond. He seemed to see everything as a threat. Sam lowered his head and bent his knees. He tried to appear as small as possible. This was still not enough for Frodo. The hobbit grunted and cleared his throat, squirming under the covers.  
  
"Shh, Mr. Frodo." Sam held out his hands and Frodo glanced at them. He did not seem to care. "Please, Frodo, don't do this. It's Sam. Samwise. You know your Sam."  
  
Envin stayed as still as possible but he doubted this. Sam should not have to be the one to confront Frodo like this. He did not know what it would do to the young hobbit's health both physically and mentally. Seeing his master like this could reverse all of Envin's hard work in healing Sam. But Sam seemed resolute now, strong and stern.  
  
Frodo whimpered in protest and Sam halted again. Just then a thought struck Envin and he was about to step forward when he stopped himself. He whispered so that Sam could hear him. "Sam, sing to him!"  
  
The gardener began low, his voice trembling but it grew as soft and gentle as the warm sun on daisies. Envin smiled, this must be what made flowers grow. Sam's voice reached Frodo's ears and they twitched as he tried to look away. The younger hobbit stood tall now and sang stronger.  
  
In western lands beneath the Sun  
  
The flowers may rise in Spring,  
  
The trees may bud, the waters run,  
  
The merry finches sing.  
  
Or there maybe 'tis cloudless night  
  
And swaying beeches bear  
  
The Elven-stars as jewels white  
  
Amid their branching hair.  
  
Though here at journey's end I lie  
  
In darkness buried deep,  
  
Beyond all towers strong and high,  
  
Beyond all mountains steep,  
  
Above all shadows rides the Sun  
  
And Stars forever dwell;  
  
I will not say the Day is done,  
  
Nor bid the Stars farewell.  
  
Once the song had finished Frodo did not realise Sam had inched right next to him and reached out to his hand. Frodo drew away slowly eyeing Sam warily. Sam continued to hum soothingly pressing his hand against Frodo's. Those blue eyes seemed vacant now but still shining with fear. They darted down to the hand and he pressed back slightly. Just to try. It was different. To feel the warmth of some new creature. Sam climbed onto the bed and locked Frodo's gaze. "Please remember," he murmered, "Please come back." The hobbit before him did not seem to understand but a small smile tugged at the corner's of his lips. Sam tried to smile as well but then he was caught around his stomach in a grip he did not expect to be so strong and desperate. He looked down and saw a mass of messy curls pressed against his chest. He ran his hands through the soft curls and Frodo looked up at him with a smile.  
  
"Do you remember me? You know your Sam now right?"  
  
Frodo's eyes did not quite adjust on him nor did he give any signs of understanding. He pressed his ear against Sam's chest again. *What was that!? Such a strange sound!* //thump// //thump// *It was warm. He could not remember warmth.* Frodo sighed and let the heartbeat lull him to sleep. He liked this place better. Wherever he was it was much better than that cold, dark merciless room.  
  
Sam pried the small hands from around his waist and leaned his master back into the pillows. The hobbit let out a slight sigh and curled up against the sheets. Sam felt tears sting his eyes and his throat constict. He tried to stay strong. He really tried but he feared that his own strength was draining now. How could this be?! The hobbit known for his wisdom, his kindness, his gentle heart and knowing eyes. The hobbit they had all called queer for taking such a strong interest in books and stars and everything that reached beyond the borders of their safe little homes. He seemed dead, lying there, save for the slight rise and fall of his chest. Sam ran a hand along his eyes and the tears felt hot and bitter. He was ready to turn around and flee. He was ready to start running and not stop until he reached the tallest hill where he could collapse and cry. He spun around but bumped right into Envin's stomach and settled for that. He burst into sobs and the healers patted his back and carried him back to the chair where he cried himself to sleep. 


	12. Protector

Sam awoke to arms being thrown around his neck, grasping tightly, and a body thowing its weight upon his stomach. He coughed, his eyes opened wide to the feeling of the weight, slight and frail as it was. The arms' grip tightened and Sam looked down at Frodo who did not seem to be focussing on him but someone else. He whimpered and tried to climb better into the protection of Sam's lap. He was sobbing now, shaking with fright, small squeaks coming from his throat. Sam suddenly remembered about his little sister, Marigold, when she was frightened of the scary stories Halfred told on stormy nights. She'd grip him tight and whimper, too young to talk, too young to understand that the monsters Hal told of were either completely false or far far away. She couldn't understand that they were safe, that they were home. Just that there was something bad out there, somewhere.  
  
Frodo buried his face in the crook of Sam's arm and his cries seemed like little pleas for help. Sam looked up and saw Envin, frozen in a state of shock and Merry and Pippin whose faces would have seemed incredibly comical if not for the crying hobbit in his arms. Sam sat up, cradling the weeping bundle, his eyes trying to scan the situation. "What's all this about?"  
  
Pippin's lower lip quivered and he bit it angrily, trying to act as grown as his cousin who also seemed to be losing composure. Envin was the first to regain speech. "They wished to see him. He was frightened." He said simply.  
  
Sam rocked the curled up hobbit in his arms clumsily. Frodo curled his legs into Sam's stomach making it very awkward for him to hold onto him. Sam also felt so very strange comforting his master this way. He could still not grasp the fact that he was completely helpless, that he was no longer the stubborn hobbit who once insisted on travelling through the wilderness with a mortal wound and poison slowly creeping over his heart. He could no longer brave anything he feared. "Shh, Mr. Frodo, them there are your cousins. They'd never hurt you, Mr. Frodo, never even think of doin' you no harm. They wanted to see you, make sure you were alright." Frodo did not seem to comprehend, he lifted his head slowly at the sound of Sam's words and looked into his eyes. Sam saw that Frodo's face was a mask of confusion and fear as they darted back and forth searching his own face.  
  
Sam made to stand Frodo on his own feet but the hobbit just grumbled and buried deeper into Sam's arm. "Now, come on Mr. Frodo, you gotta try. You gotta trust me." Frodo let his feet fall but put no pressure to them. He lay, limp and stubborn, his brow furrowed in panic. Sam took a moment to scan Pippin and Merry who both seemed to be trying hard to behave and seem less threatening. They *were* awful big for hobbits. Sam was the only one Frodo's size, he seemed less threatening. "Try-" Sam swallowed, knowing this was a foolish idea. "Try gettin' on your knees, Mr. Merry."  
  
Merry obeyed quietly, bowing his head. Pippin followed. Sam leaned Frodo's weight onto him and helped the struggling hobbit towards his cousins. Frodo let Sam help him until he looked up and saw the three creatures he was seeking protection from. He spun around in a blind panic and threw himself to the ground. Sam fell to his knees trying to get Frodo to look up but he was as stubborn as a child.  
  
Sam lifted his hand and Frodo jerked it right back. He pounded the ground and whimpered, curling his legs up to his chest and breathing quickly, his frail chest heaving. "Mr. Frodo!" cried Sam trying to stop the panicking hobbit. Frodo shook his head, making his nose press against the ground. He clenched his eyes shut trying to make it all just go away. "Mr. Frodo please! No one's gonna hurt you! You gotta trust your Sam." Sam grabbed Frodo's shoulders causing the frightened hobbit to go completely stiff and hold his breath as if he were going under water. Sam pulled him onto his lap and cradled him protectively. "It's alright. It's alright, no one's gonna hurt you. Not any one's gonna hurt you."  
  
Envin knew it would frighten Frodo even more but he had to do something. Frodo was hyperventalating and if he didn't do something soon he would pass out from sheer panic. He ran to Sam's side and stroked Frodo's hair soothingly before taking the shaking bundle out of Sam's arms. Frodo kept his eyes closed and did not see his new bearer. Envin set him on the bed and tucked the covers tightly so that he would not try and run. "Mr. Merry, Mr. Pippin, could you please boil me some water, and help me fetch some athelas, quickly, please." Merry and Pippin clambored to their feet and did as bidden as swiftly as they could. Envin ran out of the tent after them to find the king's athelas.  
  
Sam sat where he was left, his face seemed struck, his arms still held out as if he were holding something close to him. He could not take this any more. All of this. It was just too much. He could feel his heart rending. His mind was becoming fussy and he was back on Mount Doom, holding his master close as he fled down the mountain. He could feel the terrible wound on Frodo's head seeping out more and more of his life blood. He was jarred and jolted and came to his final resting place upon the harsh, wicked rocks of Orodruin. Putrid fumes and acids reigned from the blackened sky and the earth moaned and shook. Sam's master left him that day. Died upon that mountain. And Sam could now feel the effects of that loss tearing at his broken heart. His master was gone. Frodo no longer lived in that body.  
  
Sam found himself standing beside the bed of the writhing hobbit. When Frodo ceased his panic he looked up at Sam, eyes burning with fear. They softened as they rested upon Sam's face and he threw his arms around him again, nuzzling securely against him like a contented kitten. Sam's body shook with heaves as he sobbed but Frodo did not seem to understand. The simple hobbit looked up, his eyebrows knotting with a question his brain could not quite form. He pressed his palm against Sam's wet cheek and showed it to him, the same questioning look on his face. "Tears!" Sam yelled, almost angrily and Frodo shrank back.  
  
"Look what's It's done! Look what that foul, wretched thing has done to you! What you've become!" Sam gripped Frodo, roughly, by the shoulders and the hobbit squeaked, now even more confused than before. If he had gained anything, it was that the creature before him would protect him. And now he was even more confused as he was shaken by it, rough hands digging into his shoulders. "And you don't even know what this is!" Sam let Frodo drop and put his own hand to his cheek showing Frodo the tears. "They're tears! I'm crying!" he panted and his rage began to drain. "I'm- I'm crying..." his voice began to lower as the hobbit in front of him trembled. Sam took in a deep breath. "People cry- people cry when they are sad. I am sad because you- you aren't the same as you were before. Do you understand?"  
  
Frodo did not respond. His bright eyes darting across Sam's face, searching, searching for something. Some answer. Some way for him to know. He did not understand the words. They were just babble to him. But the face. It changed. It went from warm, kind, gentle, safe. Then it was all scrunched up, all wet, his lips curled down, his eyes shimmered with water, and then his teeth clenched together. His face tightened, fingers dug into his shoulders. Frodo rubbed his shoulders at the thought as Sam's keen eyes bore into him for some kind of response. *What did this creature want?*  
  
"Look what It's done! What you've become! What It's reduced you to!" Sam muttered his voice shaking. "You weren't always like this, you know. You were always so wise, so learned. You were leadin' me all the time. You taught me everything worth knowin'! Everything. Ever since I was a little lad I- I looked up to you, Mr. Frodo. I always wanted to be like you. An' now, well, me takin' care a' you like this, it- it's-" Sam stopped. He gave up. His words were just wind to his master's ears. He buried his face in his hands and sat on the edge of the bed.  
  
Some time passed. Sam could not tell how much. All was darkness to him. Thoughts ran by too quickly for him to catch. But in the darkness he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was trembling terribly and he looked up. Frodo sat himself down next to him and stared intently into his eyes. Sam saw tears trailing down Frodo's face. "I'm sorry I- I must a' just made matters worse for you- you- must be so confused- and I yelled- I'm-" Frodo pressed his hand to his cheek and showed the glimmering tears to Sam. He then pressed them on Sam's cheek and sat like that for a long while before Sam choked out, "Tears."  
  
Frodo didn't respond to the babble he heard. Some odd tendency for this creature to make funny noises. But he supposed he did the same and rested his head on its shoulder.  
  
Sam patted Frodo's back as the simple hobbit sighed contentedly. Sam rocked him back and forth humming a gentle lullaby. Frodo just simply smiled and listened intently. These strange sounds he liked. They combined together and sounded pleasent to his ears. Sam choked often, he didn't like this at all. This wasn't his child, this wasn't his son. This was his master and yet he was treating him like a child. He hated it, he despised it, he loathed it in every way. But he could not mistreat Frodo like that again.  
  
His horrid actions finally hit him and he felt like he got the wind punched out of him. He hurt him. Frodo couldn't help it. He was trapped like this and he hurt him for it. He yelled at him. Sam, the one that always should have protected him, kept him safe and warm, treated him with kindness, pity, love. Instead he jostled him, insulted him, berated him for what he was. What he was. The thought hurt Sam so very much. This is what his master was. Reduced to a simple child. Didn't even know what tears were. Sam berated himself over and over for this. He would make a terrible father if he treated his children this way. Got so frustrated over tears. Such bitter wasteful tears that this simple hobbit could not understand in his world.  
  
And as all of this twisted into some bitter knot deep inside Sam's belly something else added to it and he felt like he was going to retch. Sam stood up quickly letting Frodo fall with a squeak. He rushed over to Envin's healing items and sought desperately for a bowl. Finding nothing he darted outside and retched all the contents of his stomach until nothing but bile coated his throat. He coughed and heaved and finally fell to the grass sobbing.  
  
Frodo forgave him. So quickly, so simply as if nothing had happened. Frodo trusted him so much, seconds after he had hurt him, thrown him, screamed and insulted him, that gentle sould leaned his head on his shoulder and smiled softly as if it had never happened. He realized, finally, how much faith this frightened hobbit put in him. He was lost in a world he did not know. He was alone and frightened and confused, yet he trusted Sam. He was the single thing in this world Frodo trusted. Even after he was hurt by him, he did not lose faith in him. He did not fear him. Like a loyal dog that could have been kicked and sorely mistreated by his master always returned to his side ready stand by him, never once doubting the love of his master, even if it wasn't there.  
  
Sam finally let the darkness take him as he passed out next to the rejected contents of his stomach. The hot sun burned down on him and he lay alone outside the tent clutching the grass to stop the world from spinning.  
  
Frodo was lying on the bed as Sam left him, staring wide eyed where the creature had run out of the tent in such a frenzy. He waited patiently for a while, knowing his protector would return to him. He waited and heard odd sounds outside. They seemed painful and he finally sat up. Pain. That he knew. He knew it so well. Was his protector in pain? Frodo set his feet on the ground ready to venture out of the safe confines of his tent. Slowly, each step had to be so intently focussed on as he stumbled forward. In blind panic he could run or crawl as quickly as his limbs could fly. But this upright walking was so very difficult. Still his protector had done it, had held him and tried to make him do it. He should try. One furry foot balanced his weight steadily as the other made its way to the ground. Point it forward, not sideways. Don't twist yourself. Bend. Push. Balance. Such a difficult task how did these creatures do it?  
  
He finally reached the flaps of the tent and his little fists gripped them desperately. There was a warm gold light coming from out there. He shied away from it instinctively. It was hot, not cold, bright, not dark. Yet it wasn't there. He could not hold it, grab it, touch it. He watched little seeds float through the gold light that were invisible in the darkness. Tiny little spores that would one day find a home in the ground and sprout life. He ran his hand through it. It was warm and the little seeds danced around his fingers. Facinating. Strange. New. He finally plucked up enough courage to look out.  
  
Like a timid rabbit he peered out until his eyes rested on his protector lying on the ground, not moving. That was odd. He normally moved a lot. And made strange noises too. That babble was becoming enjoyable. He fell to the ground. Crawling was somehow easier. He made his way to his protector's side and nestled close. Now this place was amazing! He couldn't grasp it all at once. The colors! Lots of green. He nestled close and smiled. He was safe now. By his protector's side once more. He could not have been more content but he missed the gentle hum, the mumbling babble. Why wasn't the creature doing any of those things? Frodo's mind could not begin to question this so he stayed where he was until the hot sun made him drowsy.  
  
This was how Envin, Merry, and Pippin found them when they returned. 


	13. Changed

A/N: There are two references in here one about an event that occurs in The Two Towers movie and an event in The Two Towers book. I hope it's not too confusing.  
  
~~~  
  
Sam's eyes fluttered open. He found himself awake yet so very weary as if worn to the bone by a pain inside of him growing outward. He gasped slightly at the feel of a cool cloth on his forehead, covering his eyes. His limbs felt lethargic and the simple motion of pushing the cloth away wore him out. He felt a hand on his wrist as he let it drop and his half lidded eyes strove to focus.  
  
"Shh, Sam, you've worn yourself out. Your still not up to such strain."  
  
Sam tried to sit up but failed and fell back with a cry. His stomach was sorely cramped. "Where's Frodo?" he gasped finally.  
  
Envin smiled at seeing Sam's determination, "He is well, but not too happy at the moment. He won't let me tend him so he has settled for jittering over in that corner."  
  
"Please, let me see him." Sam strove to sit up again and Envin's gentle hands were straightening his back so that he would not fall. "There, Sam, take it easy now. You may have to stay here for the rest of the day. Get your rest. You understand."  
  
"I understand mighty well, but it don't mean I'm gonna do it," said Sam with a leer. "I know you mean well but I'm not a child and I've been off my feet for too long now. Can't go lazing about, that ain't good for your body either, says me Gaffer."  
  
Envin's face set sternly, "When your sick you should be lying down."  
  
Sam rubbed his eyes to better clear his vision. His gaze scanned the room before he caught sight of Frodo quaking in the corner. "Mr. Frodo, naught be afrightened." The hobbit gazed at him blankly hugging himself tight as if he were cold.  
  
"I've been trying to get him out of there for an hour at least. Ever since we found you two and brought you in he just dashed over there."  
  
Sam sighed, "He's afrightened of everyone but me. I think it's because I'm the only one his size."  
  
"Or-" said Envin slowly as he dipped the cloth into a cool basin, "Or maybe somewhere in the back of his memory he can see someone who was always beside him. Someone who he knew he could forever trust when he was helpless. Someone who protected him when all seemed lost."  
  
Sam blushed, "I don't think he remembers me, Envin. But he does seem to look to me for protection." Sam tried to get up but he was pushed back down again. "Now see here!" He began then lowered his voice. "Now see here. Nothin' and I mean absolutely nothin' has kept me from me master's side not hunger nor thirst nor madness nor death. I was ready to lay down and die beside him out there, I was hopin' for it. But now that it turns out we're still alive I'm not gonna go leavin' him even if he is..." Sam swallowed hard, "Simple." He breathed heavily and continued in a slow, aged voice, "Now you just step aside and either let me go to him or him come to me." Envin understood and bowed deeply before he turned and went over to his healer's bag to search for bonds and herbs.  
  
Frodo's eyes followed the threatening man until he was safely in the distance at which time Frodo dashed to the bed and jumped on it wildly. "Easy there, Mr. Frodo," said Sam in a weary voice. Envin watched out of the corner of his eyes and clucked his tongue. "Not healthy for him at all."  
  
Frodo gazed at Sam with some excitement bursting in his eyes like a child about to be told one of his favorite stories. Sam smirked. "And what do you want?" He raised an eyebrow but Frodo did not seem to care about the words he said, as usual. Instead Frodo huddled next to Sam, content, he began tediously plucking at the bandages around his head. "Now, let that be, Mr. Frodo." Sam pried his nimble fingers away from the bandage. The simple hobbit obeyed but scratched the back of his head curiously.  
  
"It's healing," said Envin in a whisper "Quite common for it to be a little irritated."  
  
Sam nodded as Frodo had become enamored in his hand. The simple hobbit gazed at it like it was a thing of wonder. He held it up and traced his pale fingers along the thin lines weaving in the depths of Sam's palm. He etched around his broken nails that showed his toil in clawing up the mountain side. But also signs of the old gardener were left that Frodo did not overlook. There was a slight cut between Sam's forefinger and third one on his left hand that was the result of an incident with sheers quite a few years back. Frodo noticed the tiny scar and traced it eagerly. He spread his fingers between the gaps that Sam's fingers left and noticed something strange. There was still a gap that could not be filled no matter how he spread his fingers. He jerked Sam's hand up roughly so that he may closer examine it. Sam aloud him to and watched curiously.  
  
Frodo thought the fault may somehow lie in Sam's callused, brown hand but it seemed whole enough. Then he looked upon his own. The bandage covered most of it but it was not bulk any longer so the full image of his hand could be seen. It covered something. Frodo was immediately angered at the bandage and he furrowed his brow as he struggled to tear it apart. Sam's hands tried to stop him but he batted them away and grunted as he pulled the wrap off. He pressed his hand against Sam's again and saw the same problem. One of the gaps that his finger was supposed to fill... did not. *Well if this wasn't frustrating! Why were they different.?*  
  
He checked Sam's other hand along with his other one. Now that time the gaps were filled. He tried again with each hand now and saw it was only one of his that left a hole. He sighed and fell back now enamored with his own hand leaving Sam's free to do whatever they wished. Sam folded them on his lap and watched Envin.  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
"Thinking," said Envin bluntly as he pulled out his surgical knife.  
  
"You're thinking of doin' it again, aren't you?"  
  
"Yes I think I'm thinking I am." Envin smiled shining the knife in the fire light.  
  
"He won't stand for it now."  
  
"No, But maybe he'll learn something." Envin gazed at the knife thinking deeply before he shook his head and put it away. "Not now. We should focus on his fears now. Make him see everything is not going to hurt him."  
  
Sam nodded and his gaze fell on the hobbit next to him that was slowly letting his left forefinger fall on each finger on his right hand. When he got to the missing one he paused and went on never quite seeing the problem.  
  
"Where did Mr. Pippin and Mr. Merry go?"  
  
"When they tried to get your master out of the corner they only further frightened him so I sent them away. The elf prince and the dwarf man came by a while ago quite ruffled. They seemed so irritated that they hadn't seen or spoken to you or Frodo that they demanded at least to sit by your bedside. I sent them off too since they would most definitely frighten your master. But now I think I have come off as some sort of tyrant to them all." Envin laughed heartily and he noticed the corners of Sam's mouth twitch.  
  
"I hope they aren't too angry with me. I haven't been speakin' with them at all, have I?"  
  
"Angry with you?" laughed Envin, "Why if you cut down all the trees and pulled the very stars from the sky I suppose they'd blame me now. But I could never see a one of them ever being angry with you for anything, Sam." Then Envin said, in a very serious tone, "They all have deep feelings for you."  
  
"I know. And I miss them something awful! But things have changed so much. I remember Merry and Pippin told me Legolas and Gimli are friends now, well if that isn't something I just have to see! Oh you didn't know them but I did, all along that quest they were bickering like children, something awful to hear I tell ya! T'would dive us all crazy. Mr. Frodo would always sit with me at the campfire at night, especially the nights when you could hear Legolas and Gimli hollarin' at each other o'er yon, and Mr. Frodo'd say, 'Sam one of these nights, you wait and see, I'm going to go off my head and then they may start to fear the little Ringbearer they're trying to protect.' "  
  
Sam burst into laughter that startled the little being beside him. Frodo watched him curiously. *Now this facial expression was new!*  
  
Sam looked down at his hands again. "Mr. Frodo never really did go off his head about it. He came mighty close sometimes, I think. But he always had a cooler temper than me. If it weren't for him I suppose I would go a' hollarin' right back at 'em. One time I was about to, they were arguing so awful that they were just pacing back and forth until Gimli kicked over the stew I was brewing after Legolas gave him a push, of course. But Mr. Frodo just held my fists, I think they were just movin' on their own too, my fists I mean. I bet my face must have turned the silliest shade of red too because they did look really sorry after it, though it might have been because they lost another meal. I know Pippin and Merry weren't too happy with them, they lost their meal too. I know Gandalf and Aragorn were mighty furious too and they gave that elf and dwarf the what for later that night. Boromir-" Sam choked a bit before continuing, "Boromir just laughed. He did seem to see the bright side of it. After Merry and Pippin went off to sulk and Gandalf was keeping watch while Aragorn was giving Legolas and Gimli the what for, me and Mr. Frodo sat beside Boromir and he offered us some of his bread and dried fruit. It was mighty kind of him- mighty kind. I miss those times the most. The only time things got bad was when dinner was spoilt."  
  
Envin was laughing, "That graceful elf and that proud dwarf did all that?!"  
  
"I should say, in my defense, that it was not intended!" came a hard voice. "And! If I were not pushed-"  
  
"Pushed, friend dwarf? Twas you who asked for it," came another fairer voice.  
  
Envin and Sam glanced to the tent flap where Gimli and Legolas emerged. Frodo scuttled closer to Sam and closed his eyes tight. "Don't get any closer!" cried Sam putting a protective hand over Frodo.  
  
Legolas and Gimli stopped mid stride and stood with a stricken look upon their faces. "Now, Sam, don't tell me you're still indignant toward us for that. It really was an accident and we *were* acting childish," said Legolas in serious disbelief.  
  
"No, no!" Sam laughed lightly. "It's Frodo."  
  
"Merry and Pippin told us," said Gimli. "But surely we can speak with you."  
  
"Very well, but please keep your distance."  
  
Legolas and Gimli tried to hide the hurt look on their faces and sat on the ground as to appear less menacing. They spoke for a while about every little thing. Sam felt his heart lighten at the sound of the elf's gentle voice and his eyes fill with mirth at the dwarf as he told of his encounters with horses, trees, spirits, and the men and women of Rohan.  
  
".....and the horse got away from her somehow, throwing him right off! Lady Eowyn had to help him up."  
  
Sam burst into laughter as Legolas finished his tale with a grin. Gimli just grumbled. "Now wait a minute Master Elf! I have one too. You can imagine before that that I never really rode on my own. I was never one for beasts of burden. Whatever you can't carry on your own sturdy back is not worth taking. As for riding them, well you can never really trust a beast when it is startled. But we needed speed so I rode with Legolas. It seemed the trees got to his mind. The elf went mad, galloped us straight back into the forest. I could do nothing until Aragorn stopped us. Never could trust those treespells."  
  
Legolas laughed despite himself. Sam chuckled, "I never heard of an elf 'fraid of trees."  
  
"These were mighty wrathful trees, Samwise," said Legolas in his defense.  
  
Sam tried to hide his laughter gracefully but Gimli made no attempts. His laughter was hearty and strong but it seemed to frighten Frodo who yelped and gripped Sam strongly. Sam let out a squeak as Frodo's nimble hands pinched his arm. "Shh, Mr. Frodo it's alright."  
  
Gimli quieted right away but Frodo was still shaking. Tears started to roll down his cheeks and blot the sheets as he hid his face in the crook of Sam's neck. The hobbit seemed inconsolable. Envin could watch no longer and stood up. He felt a great protectiveness for Frodo growing in himself, like a child to him, and he could not bear seeing him upset. There was a hint of anger in his voice when he spoke, "Master Elf, Master Dwarf, you have had your wish. Now, perhaps, you may leave this poor tormented hobbit in peace."  
  
"See here!" said Legolas defending Gimli, "You know nothing of what we've all been through."  
  
"You know nothing of what this hobbit has been through! I am a healer and by my skills I have learned his trials."  
  
Legolas stood up and was in front of Envin before the man could know the elf had moved. There was a fire behind his keen, piercing eyes. If Envin thought Sam's could be intimidating the elf made his heart quail yet his protective nature for Frodo stood true. "Simple man," the elf spat, "You were not there when this brave hobbit stood up in front of a council of men, elves, and dwarves; in front of people of high status, rangers, princes, lords, and kings. He was but a hobbit then. He was so small barely any one took notice of him for there was such a fire in that council that it kindled all hearts with fear and anger. No one would see it destroyed for that meant his doom! But we could not hide it, and for our fear we fought. And amongst the chaos this little hobbit stood up and took on a burden he should never have had to bear! I saw him do it. It broke my heart. He knew nothing of the peril, the danger, the sacrifice. I believe he was just as frightened as all of us, but he overcame it as no ranger, prince, lord, or king could ever do!"  
  
Envin was speechless. A long silence drifted in the tent save for the weak sobs that came from Frodo. Sam gazed on with wide eyes. He had never seen an elf so furious. He had never heard words spoken with such heart and love. Legolas settled a bit and Envin watch the blaze in his eyes slowly sink behind the grey light. He could feel his hands trembling but he clenched his teeth and muttered through them. "If you care for this hobbit so then you will give him peace. Look. He is afraid of you."  
  
Legolas turned around, his fair hair thrown into Envin's face as his eyes came to rest on the two hobbits in the bed. Sam was watching him, mouth agape, but Frodo was buried in Sam's shoulder weeping like a frightened child. Legolas could not move, his heart shattered anew. Now he had been the cause of the hobbit's pain. "Frodo," he choked, "Forgive me." He was still frozen in his stance when Gimli put a hand on his elbow and lead him out. When they reached the tent flap Gimli looked back. "We never meant to cause him this torment," the dwarf whispered in a choked voice. Then they were gone. Envin was struck where he stood but the spell upon Sam was broken and he wrapped his arms around Frodo trying to console him. He lay his head on his masters back and wept as well, so many things did change. 


	14. Rosie

Frodo had pulled his knees up to his nose and was sniffling pathetically. His teary eyes had stopped flowing but he had gotten the hiccoughs and every so often his little frame would jolt and he would squeak slightly. His eyes were darting around the room wildly slightly glaring at Envin as a snake ready to strike him. He shivered and shook again, sniffling loudly. Sam had gotten up ever so slowly and Frodo let out a cry of protest but Sam just lay a hand on his shoulder and hushed him. "Shh, Mr. Frodo, I'm just gettin' a pocket handkerchief for your runny nose there, okay? I won't go far and I won't take long. You can watch."  
  
*Hic*  
  
"There there, try to calm down. Breathe easy."  
  
*Hic*  
  
Sam sighed and shifted his weight. His legs felt wobbly but he just took in a deep breath and walked over to Envin who had pulled out a pocket handkerchief. He was afraid to move from the corner so that he would not upset Frodo but the simple hobbit was watching the two closely.  
  
*Hic*  
  
"Envin, you can't stay in this corner forever. What are we gonna do about him?" Sam's voice cracked. He still had such a hard time dealing with the fact that his master was as simple as a child. He turned at hearing Frodo made a strange squick sound in his throat. Sam ran over to him and offered the pocket handkerchief. Frodo stared at it and shifted uneasily. Sam sighed and pressed it to his nose. He took the corner and dried the tears. Frodo looked up and smiled gratefully. Sam's touch was gentle and kind.  
  
Frodo would have stayed content but for an uncomfortable feeling in his tummy. He bounced slightly on the bed and squicked again. "What is it?" Sam asked as if expecting an answer. Frodo himself was not quite sure but he did not like it. Envin watched closely before it registered.  
  
"Sam!" Envin called, "I think he has to- um- relieve himself-"  
  
Sam nodded and put his hands under Frodo's arms to help him up. Frodo complied. "Where?" asked Sam rather desperately.  
  
"There is some brush behind this tent, not far, and no one is near. The privy is much too far."  
  
Sam nodded and helped Frodo limp out of the tent. When they reached the outside the simple hobbit had to shield his eyes from the blazing sun. *Now this just adds to the unpleasantness.* But his protector lead him behind the tent and brought him into the shadows of the underbrush. Sam pulled down Frodo's breeches and was thankful that he knew how to do the rest. Sam and Frodo both sighed in relief. Sam took a few steps back and let his shoulders slump. For a moment he felt almost peaceful in the cool shadows and Frodo was occupied at the moment. When he turned around again he saw Frodo finish tugging up his breeches and smiled. Well he learned to do something on his own. For this Sam was so very thankful. Frodo walked over to him with less trouble than last time though he had to concentrate on each step. Sam grabbed hold of his arm as he reached him and smiled down at the simple hobbit.  
  
"Good."  
  
*Hic*  
  
His hiccoughs had slowed but were still slightly plaguing him. "If you just calm your breathing a bit-" Sam began before he turned and saw Frodo watching him intently, as if he were hanging on every word he said. "You don't understand a word of this do you?" His face never changed save that his smile broadened. "I could go on talkin' and you wouldn't notice or mind."  
  
*Hic*  
  
"I wonder if any of this is even sticking. Ya know you used to know two languages. You spoke 'em both beautifully. You were always known for your way with words, Mr. Frodo. Such a way, it earned you the title "gentlehobbit" in the Shire. You knew how to speak to your elders with respect, and the juniors with praise, and your betters with skill, though there were few of higher status mind, and me. You spoke to me and the Gaffer like we were just as important as you. You never made us feel inferior, Mr. Frodo. You never made us feel uncomfortable."  
  
*Hic* Frodo smiled.  
  
"I guess you did see us just as important as you, didn't you? No one was better than the other for you were they? You didn't judge by status."  
  
Frodo blinked slowly, his smile never fading. He really did like this babble. It started to get an interesting flow. It rose and fell with wonder and ended on strange pitches sometimes. It fell on his ears gentle and it did not burn or hurt. He could remember something burning, something hurting. This place didn't have that. But there were scary things. Big things. Things his protector had to fend away from him. And the babble was so very enjoyable he did not want it to stop. He smiled hoping it would keep him going. He didn't want it to stop. Every time his protector would falter with his words or pause Frodo just smiled and hopped that more babble would come. It often did.  
  
*Hic*  
  
Sam sighed, "Ya know, Mr. Frodo, I'm right glad that you're gainin' back some a your weight but my back begs to differ. I think I need to sit a while." Sam eased Frodo off of his side and both sat down in the cool grass. Sam let out another tired sigh and turned his face toward the sun. Frodo imitated him.  
  
Sam cast a glance towards his charge. "Do you like the grass?" He saw Frodo running his hands along the blades as they sprung back and forth and shimmered in the sun. Sam smiled slightly, "You always used to like all things that were green."  
  
Frodo was too busy watching the grass bounce back and forth. *Now this stuff was interesting.* Frodo watched as the different blades sprang this way and that each one the same yet different. They were not all the same color and they all shone with a pretty brilliance he never saw before. His nimble fingers dug deeper and he felt a cool earth beneath. That was a different feeling too. The earth was warm yet cool, dark and shifted smoothly between his fingers, he could feel life pulsing through it and as he churned it it released a sweet smell of growing things that tickled his nose. *This place was lovely.* His thoughts began to turn everything he saw over and over. It was difficult and many things were still not clear but he decided on one thing; he liked it. He liked it a lot.  
  
Sam was smiling down at the little sprouts that were finding their way between the blades of grass. Some tiny white flowers had bloomed and others were still little buds. He bent down and sniffed them. They had a light yet fragrant perfume and he rubbed his nose. It was so long since he himself had seen or smelled a flower. He too felt like he was seeing them for the first time. "I do so like these foreign flowers. They are so small like little stars."  
  
Frodo was watching Sam. He looked down and detected the little white sprouts too. Seeing is how his protector liked them so much he plucked a little bud from the ground and handed it to him. Sam's face fell when he looked at it. "Oh, no, don't pick them like that!" Sam cried.  
  
Frodo furrowed his brow. His protector was obviously dismayed. His voice rose and took a frightening pitch and a rough stagger. He did not like it. It did not feel gentle on his ears. *Have I done something wrong?* He looked at the flower. *What was wrong with it?* He turned it over and over but could not see the problem. Tears started in his eyes. His protector was displeased with him.  
  
"Oh don't cry, Mr. Frodo, I didn't mean to holler." Frodo just kept his eyes downcast on the little bud he was twirling in his hand. Sam tried to explain as he took the flower from Frodo, "You cannot pick 'em when they're this young. They're weak and fragile." Frodo's eyes were swimming. Sam's voice was still not it's gentle tone, that's all Frodo noted. "It'll die before it can blossom." Sam continued slowly, tears starting in his own eyes for the death of the little flower. "Now you can't see how pretty it's gonna be, because now it's dead. You see dead. Dead." Sam held out the flower hoping Frodo would understand. He did not but he took note of the odd sound the words Sam's voice made. *Dead.* "You can't just go pickin' the pretty things out of the ground either, you kill 'em that way. Soon it will wither, it won't be pretty any more, and it has lost the chance to grow. It lost it's chance to live, Mr. Frodo. You don't wanna take that away."  
  
Frodo stared at the flower blankly. He took it gently from Sam's hands and pocketed it. Whatever his protector didn't like about it, he still did, so he'd keep it. He sniffed again but his hiccoughs had gone away, still, he was very vulnerable right now. Sam could tell by the way his lip quivered. Anything would set him off.  
  
Sam was silent. He wanted Frodo to get more comfortable. "...make him see that everything is not a threat..." Sam murmured lightly. The simple hobbit was looking about him curiously now until he saw three figures approach. Quickly Frodo stiffened and held his breath.  
  
"No, Mr. Frodo, breathe. I'll make 'em go away." Sam was afraid that Frodo would panic again. He could not have that. Quickly he stood and the three figures stopped.  
  
"Hello, Mr. Merry, Mr. Pippin, who have we here?" said Sam politely. There was a little girl standing between them, nearly his own height. When she looked upon Sam she attempted a clumsy curtsey and fell with a swoosh of pretty colored dresses. She held something close to her and when Sam saw the little golden kitten he smiled. "So it's Emarin, isn't it."  
  
She nodded, "Yes, Lord Samwise, I came looking for my brother." Her eyes fell on Frodo who had also been staring at her. They widened and she gasped. "It cannot be! Aren't you Frodo of Nine Fingers?" Frodo furrowed his brow again. He quite liked that babble that came out of this new creature too. It was high and squeaky yet tiny and soft. Not threatening. He stood up and examined her.  
  
She set down her kitten and fumbled with the curtsey again. This time she succeeded. "How do you do?"  
  
Frodo's eyes now watched the kitten as it stumbled towards him. *It's so small!* He watched as it bumped into his leg and shook its head. Emarin quickly scooped it up, "Kitten is sorry, Lord Frodo."  
  
Frodo watched the little fluff ball cuddled against the girl's arms. Merry, Pippin, and Sam watched completely speechless as Frodo and Emarin plopped on the ground to watch the kitten stumble around. "She's barely got her legs working right yet," said Emarin who never seemed to have a problem chattering, nor did she seem to noticed Frodo's condition. He was just a playmate to her, and he listened! Something most grown ups never did! "And I haven't thought of a name for her yet. What do you think?" Frodo did not seem to be paying attention to her words. He smiled as he watched the kitten bat a blade of grass. *What a silly little thing!*  
  
Pippin and Merry shrugged and decided to join the crowd. Soon enough they were all sitting in a circle watching the little kitten hobble around. Frodo did not even notice. The kitten had wandered over to Sam's lap and struggled to climb up his knee. He laughed and picked her up so he could see her more closely. "She's a very pretty color, Emarin. Gold with blue eyes like that. Like little jewels. Ya know what I think you should call her?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Rosie. I've always been fond of that name."  
  
Merry and Pippin snorted and Sam frowned at them. "It's a pretty name," he blushed. He handed the kitten to Frodo who just adored it. He set it in his lap gently and smiled as he stroked its fur. "You like her, Lord Frodo?" said Emarin as she watched the two. "I guess I can lend her to you, if you like, just for the time you're staying any way." Frodo was watching the kitten as it purred in his lap.  
  
*What's that sound? What's that rumbling?* He lifted the kitten and woke it up, much to her distaste. He pressed his ear to her back and she meowed slightly. He gasped and jerked his head up.  
  
"Oh, Mr. Frodo," said Sam, setting the kitten back in Frodo's lap, "I don't think she likes that much."  
  
Emarin smiled, "Rosie likes Frodo."  
  
Sam blushed again and Merry and Pippin burst into laughter. "Yes," giggled Pippin, "I thinks Rosie does like Frodo the best." Merry nodded between bouts of laughter, "Yeah, Pip, Rosie's rather fond of Frodo, don't you think so Sam?"  
  
Sam grumbled and tried to hide his blushing, "Come on, Mr. Frodo, we should be goin' in now." Frodo obeyed as Sam helped him up, still clutching the kitten to him. Merry and Pippin waved as they rolled on the grass with laughter. Emarin got up quickly, dusted her dress, and followed. After all she wanted to see her brother. 


	15. War

"Envin! Envin!" Emarin burst into the tent in a flow of her colorful skirts. She embraced her brother warmly and spun in his arms. "Rosie likes Frodo, Envin! Did you know that? And Frodo likes Rosie! I said I would lend her to him if he liked. I think he liked that idea."  
  
"Woah, sister!" laughed Envin, lightly, "Who is Rosie?"  
  
Just them Sam emerged with Frodo on his tail clutching the little kitten lovingly. Sam tried a weary smile as he trudged to the bed. "I think-" he sighed, "You were right, Envin. I should have stayed off my feet."  
  
Envin smiled, "You see, now I'm not one to gloat but-"  
  
"Oh, now I've gone and done it," Sam laughed weakly.  
  
Envin set his sister down and turned his eyes to Frodo. "He doesn't look afraid," he mused aloud. Sam nodded and closed his eyes, "That kitten's done him a bit of good, I reckon, though I cannot see why."  
  
Envin smiled, "Animals have a strange healing power that even I do not possess." Frodo looked around warily. He clutched the kitten protectively as he stood stock still.  
  
Emarin took his hand, "Come Lord Frodo, speak with my brother." Frodo followed and looked up at Envin without fear but with curiosity. Envin bent down and put out a hand. Frodo stepped back then looked at it. "So, Frodo," said Envin, "You want to learn, now?" The simple hobbit cocked his head but did nothing. Envin raised his hand in traditional Gondorian greeting (though it did not often involve being on one's knees). Frodo looked at it and imitated the motion. "I think we are on our way."  
  
~~~  
  
After Sam had bathed his face in a nice cool basin and rested, both hobbits were offered a warm meal which was never so greatly received. Frodo sat and ate quietly wondering at all the different flavors of bread and broth. Sam smiled, "I've never seen a hobbit so amazed and gentle with simple bread and soup." It was true; Frodo lifted the bread as if it were some fragile item and took a large yet tentative bite, chewing thoughtfully as if storing the memory of the flavor for later remembrance. He looked almost normal then. To Sam's eyes he was still his gentle, caring master.  
  
Emarin was grooming her little kitten whom Frodo had reluctantly given up when the food arrived. It was Emáten who arrived with it and he sat with his sister and brother watching quietly. Sam smiled with wonder. "What a blessed family," he thought.  
  
"Emáten," said Sam, and the soldier looked up quickly.  
  
"Yes sir?"  
  
"What has become of Lord Elrond and Lady Arwen? Are they still in the King's company?" asked Sam wondering what was going on outside the tent.  
  
Emáten bowed his head to hide the blushing, "Lady Arwen will be wed to Lord Aragorn shortly, when they will be departing, I do not know. When will you be leaving, Lord Samwise? Though I do not mean to be rude!" Emáten caught his forthrightness a little too late.  
  
"I suppose I am going with the elves. I do wish to see home again and Gandalf will be leading us, I reckon, though how far he would lead us that is left to him. The Shire is a long way from here..."  
  
"Leaving-" gasped Envin, "No, no that will not do. I am not finished with my treatment."  
  
Emáten and Sam both turned to Envin though Frodo and Emarin were occupied with Rosie. "Well," Envin cleared his throat, "We haven't resumed the treatment."  
  
Sam sighed, "Envin I know you want Frodo back. I want him back more than anyone. You don't know who he was before this but-" Sam choked, "He was always someone I looked up to. But even I have to admit-"  
  
"Samwise!" Envin cried in utter shock. "You can never ever even think that it is hopeless!"  
  
"We've all changed," Sam cast his eyes down. "Even me."  
  
Envin strode over to Sam and gripped his shoulders. "You have achieved so much, Sam, on such a fine thread of a hopeless task. Do not tell me that now of all times-" The young healer cupped Sam's chin and made him turn his eyes to Frodo. His old master was watching the kitten waddle to Emarin and the little girl giggled. Frodo looked up at the sound in wonder and awe. Tears filled Sam's eyes. "-when your master needs you the most."  
  
"He looks so- normal," mused Sam.  
  
"And perhaps one day he will be. It is yours to say whether we continue or not, Samwise, as it was yours to say when we started and will be yours to say when we are complete until our parting day."  
  
"Envin," said Sam, "What would it teach him now?"  
  
"We will see."  
  
It was then that Sam, Envin, and Emáten shared in their sorrow of this war, from every perspective known. Emáten spoke of the great tragedies of battle and the masacres that occur. He spoke with a choking voice, full of scorn and fear. He had seen men fall, good honourable men that had families, die in the midst of battle. He had seen young men fall, younger than he, and older men fall, more experienced than he. Good friends who once walked with him through the streets of Gondor and shared wine with him at the tavern were lost. He put his hand to his eyes and wiped away some glittering tears.  
  
"I could not be prouder to have fought for the freedom of Middle-Earth and my king, but it is truly a frightful way to keep peace and life. I had to remind myself of those back at home, my brother, my father, and my sister. I pray that with time such things like war will no longer be needed or we shall find ourselves in a sorry state."  
  
When Emáten finished Envin clapped his brother on the back, "You have much wisedom brother, but none of us can see what is to come. I fear there will always be a battle to fight for wicked creatures will always try and harm all that you hold dear and they will covet your lands and freedom and you must stand up and fight if these things you wish to still possess." It was then that Envin sighed and his eyes became weary and old. The healer was worn as well. "I have seen the worst of battle. With every passing day a new man would be brought in, and I had little to do for them. We are far from the conforts of home. I have come too familiar with death and still it always hurts... each time more painful than the last. Every day another is lost and for every man that passes two are wounded and in dire need of care. I fear that every soldier is you, brother, and when it was... when you were brought in... my heart stopped. For a moment it just all stopped... I couldn't bear it... my hands were shaking... I do not know what I would do..." Envin bowed his head and Emáten just pressed his hand gently.  
  
"I was not about to leave you yet. I believe that I am not quite finished living. There are things that I must still do."  
  
"We.." choked Sam meekly and both pairs of eyes turned to him. "We gave up life, in the end. It was all too much. I had been... ill... I believe Frodo took care of me... All on his- on his own... I couldn't tell what was right any more... I thought that I was doing the right thing. I stopped... I stopped drinking... I don't know why but for a moment I thought that I could go without it... the water. Once that moment occured to me... I kept going. Oh what was I thinking! I almost got us both killed!" Sam threw his hands up in the air and then covered his face shamefully. "What possessed me to do such a thing! I gave it all to him and in the end forced him to go on all those journeys... all that walking through dust and ash and darkness to get the water. He had that Thing! And It weighed him to the ground, like a heavy stone strapped to his neck. He still made it. I'll never know how. But he- he just barely did..." Sam ended on a cracked whisper. "When I got better... knew what was going on... I came to him barely in time. Somethin' possessed him and I couldn't bear it! He was gone from me then too. He tried to- he told me to- give him the sword. I didn't know why. It was another folly o' mine! Why did I hand it to him!?"  
  
Envin and Emáten stared, gripping eachothers' hands so tightly, they were truly frightened. This was what had really happened on the quest. And how terrible, how traumatizing it was! It took all they had to keep from weeping and then crying out 'What then! How!'  
  
Sam continued. "He took it... he told me to... walk away... I knew then... I knew what he intended to do. It all cleared up for me in an instant and I couldn't let him do that! I couldn't let him take his own life! I pulled it from him! Snatched it right from his hands! Oh they weren't hands they were claws! He wasn't my master! He was- he was-" Sam's face registered with a terrible clarity then. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped. "He fell," Sam muttered. "He fell backwards when *I* took the sword. He- he hit his head... He hit his-" Sam turned and looked at the bandage wrapped around his master's head. The dark curls nearly covered it as they bounced playfully.  
  
"Sam," said Envin in a stern unwavering tone. "If not for you he would be dead long ago."  
  
"He's dead now," muttered Sam and he lay back down and pulled the covers over his face. He spoke no more that day.  
  
~~~  
  
A/N: I know short for such a long wait. I am sorry. As for those of you getting a little impatient I'm sorry again but this fic is barely half done. Heh on the good part no more plays so I have a bit more time on my hands. The reference in here about Emáten getting injured has been mentioned before in the chapter titled "Conflict" in case you want to check me on my accuracy. Heh. I hope you are all enjoying this it is a pleasure to write. 


	16. Good and Evil

Days passed like minutes to Sam but the hours stretched like years. He could not bear it. He spent most of his time inside the tent or right in front of it, on the green grass, in the warm sun. His master never left his side. Envin still had not resumed the treatment. He was waiting for Sam to give the word. Sam knew. He watched Frodo, who had now been dressed in the garb of the Gondorian children like himself. Frodo was quiet, taking things in often, but they were so much, too much for him to entirely grasp. Words jumbled in his mind, sky and ground became one amazing thing to him. He liked sounds though. His ears perked up every time Sam spoke and he saw Frodo's face change whenever his own voice took on a harsh or gentle tone. Frodo seemed immensely fascinated with the giggles of Emarin who now visited the tent often. She was true to her word, though, and Rosie stayed with Frodo.  
  
~~~  
  
It finally came. Mid-years day was upon Ithilian and with it the wedding day of Lord Elessar and Lady Arwen. The man and the elf woman visited the tent that day and to Sam's relief said he did not have to attend. He so wished to see the fair elves and hear the music of the party. But Frodo would refuse to leave his side and he did not wish his master to be around that many people so soon. Arwen sat with both hobbits for a long while treating them both as she had treated them in Rivendell. Sam was relieved.  
  
Aragorn, Arwen, and Sam sat on the grass outside the tent watching Frodo play with Rosie and Emarin. The sun would soon set and then the couple would soon depart. Sam did not wish it so. He enjoyed the company, Merry and Pippin were busy preparing for the feast as were most of the soldiers of Gondor and Rohan which meant Emáten would not be visiting at all that night as well. Legolas and Gimli were awfully distant since that time, they seemed very solemn and cautious whenever they visited, now, and Legolas kept his head bowed as if with shame.  
  
Sam looked up to see Arwen humming, her voice soft and swaying as the warm spring breeze. Aragorn seemed to breath it in, a life force for him somehow. Sam looked up and saw the lady kneeling peacefully beside him and the lord standing strongly with his hand lain across his breast, staring at the sky. Her voice seemed to be what kept him standing.  
  
Her keen eyes fell on Sam and he quickly blushed for being caught staring. He turned his head down and stared at his lap bashfully. "I- I was wonderin' my lady, have all the elves come?"  
  
"What do you mean, Samwise?" she smiled and her voice was soft and kind.  
  
"The elves from Lorien. Have they arrived?"  
  
"Yes they have, Sam. They have not visited because no one wished to frighten Frodo any more." Arwen lay her fair, slender hand upon Sam's little brown one and he looked up, the blood rushing to his ears. She smiled sweetly and her eyes sparkled as the sun fell gently upon her features. Sam almost gasped as the sight. "They are all worried for you, both of you. But I am not." Her eyes fell on the little white jewel around Sam's neck. "Does it give you hope?"  
  
Sam followed her glance and he lifted a hand to fondle the little jewel. "Sometimes at night," he murmured lightly, "When everything seems black and the stars seem too far away. It gives me light." He grasped it tightly, "But it's hard to find. So very faint, if you follow, small as it seems and tucked away. Don't seem like it could ever overcome that much darkness."  
  
Arwen leaned forward and whispered softly into Sam's ear, "Sometimes you may find hope unlooked for, even in the darkest places." She straightened and Sam looked up at her. He did not try to hide the confusion on his face nor the tears in his eyes.  
  
"Your master," she continued and then turned to the little hobbit and the girl playing a few feet away. Frodo was just watching her as if her every movement, her every sigh was something strange and moving. He sat in wonder and gasped at the soft gentleness of the kitten. "Did he not have a light, deep inside of him?"  
  
Sam's eyes widened, "Yes," he said urgently then lowered his voice. "He did. I saw it three times, I think. In Rivendell when he recovered from that wicked wound. I thought I saw it. It started in his eyes and radiated out of him and all through him, pale and lovely. I thought I was just seein' things, then. But I saw it again, when he brought out the phial in Mordor. The light seemed to come from his very hand! I thought I was just seein' things again. But the third time. When he fought that Gollum creature away. He stood up and it was all light. Bright and white blazing like a beacon from him. In his eyes and all through him, piercing and strong..." Sam's voice faded.  
  
"And since then? Has it been there?" said the lady.  
  
"No," Sam bowed his head. "I reckon I forgot to look."  
  
"You haven't been looking for it? Perhaps you should look for it." Her answer seemed all too simple and obvious, but politely, Sam gave it a try.  
  
Sam looked at his master now dark against the setting sun and he could see nothing. The sky was almost dark now and the couple were to be married under the stars and prepared to leave. Sam watched as the last flames of sunlight licked at the horizon and the tip of the circling orb disappeared in a flash that illuminated the sky. Sam gasped. He watched as Frodo's figure appeared before him, bright and blazing, eyes shining and hair crowned with a halo of white light. It seemed, to Sam's eyes, that his master stood now, tall and stiff with a hand to his breast as he had seen the king. The worn garb of the Gondorien children tattered and blew away like wisps of smoke and a great white robe seemed to be writhing along his master's slender form. By the hand that Frodo had lain upon his breast, where once Sam had seen a blazing wheel of fire was now a small dark hole, as if that part of Frodo had been worn away and now darkness existed. Sam stood up and the flash of light was gone. All light faded now as the darkness stretched across the sky and tiny stars could be seen strewn across the blackness. His master was kneeling again, his head bowed as he looked down at the kitten. Sam could not see his face.  
  
"Mr. Frodo?" Sam's voice hitched and his master looked up at the very sound of it. Sam felt hands lain upon his shoulder and he looked up. "Lady Arwen, did you see-"  
  
"Shh, I don't need to." She bent and lay a kiss upon Sam's curls as the hands slid off his shoulders. She turned and joined her husband-to-be as they disappeared into the dark evening. Sam hugged his arms to him as a cool breeze warned that the night would be a cold one and he brought his master, Emarin, and the kitten into the tent where Envin was resting peacefully.  
  
Sam brought Frodo before Envin and the healer raised an eyebrow scrutinously. "Does this mean you have decided Samwise?" Sam nodded and sucked in his breath. Envin stood and bade his sister join the festivities and seek Emáten. She obeyed leaving the kitten sleeping peacefully upon the bed. Frodo blinked curiously as he saw the little girl leave and the healer grabbed his wrist and lead him to the chair. He obeyed and sat down, watching every movement of Envin and Sam. Sam stood next to Frodo without a sound and gripped his hand tightly. Frodo looked up, confused. Envin returned with his clean surgical knife and held it before Frodo.  
  
Frodo's eyes fell on it. *What does it want me to do with this?*  
  
Envin turned the knife slowly and light shone in Frodo's eyes. The hobbit blinked and rubbed them, then watched the knife shine again. Sam's hand jerked on his own and now Frodo's attention was on his protector. Sam did not look him in the eye, his own gaze on Frodo's outstretched arm. Frodo looked at it too but the instant he did he saw the flicker of the knife fly across his skin and his eyes widened and teared. The knife barely had time to leave his skin before Frodo jerked his arm back and cradled it, shaking violently. He cried out, a shrill scream as he felt warm blood soak his hand as it held the cut.  
  
Frodo felt his breath come in short heaves and he curled up and fell to the floor, refusing to let anyone near him. Sam finally overpowered him by snatching his bloody arm and holding it in place as Envin wrapped it. Sam quickly brought a wet cloth to the arm and wiped away the blood as Frodo looked up reluctantly.  
  
Sam forced him up as Envin retreated to clean the knife for another turn. Gently Sam went about cleaning Frodo's face which was now stained with tears. The simple hobbit looked up at Sam, searching for some answer, some explanation to just what that was. It hurt, sharp and stinging, then it burned and now it was a heavy throb that made his whole arm feel weak. Frodo bit his quivering lip as he saw the pain on Sam's face. *What hurt him now?*  
  
Frodo instinctively put his hands on Sam's arm and felt around. There was no cut or burn or sting or throb there. Sam watched the simple hobbit closely. "What are you looking for?" he muttered. Frodo looked up briefly but then went about examining Sam's arm again.  
  
Something had hurt his protector, he assumed it was the same thing that hurt him. He sought a way to relieve the pain and knew he must find the source. His hands worked nimbly along Sam's arm as he pressed and prodded curiously. He ran a finger along the forearm and found it clean and unscathed. *Why was he hurt? Was he hurt because the shining thing had hurt me?* Frodo looked up at Sam examining the facial expression and storing it away.  
  
Frodo did not like it when Sam was in pain and Sam could tell. The simple hobbit became immediately alert and aware, searching Sam for some way to help him. He did not have to wonder what it felt like to be so helpless, so deep in darkness. He knew precisely how this frustrated Frodo for it frustrated him as well. He could do nothing for Frodo, to heal him, to find him, as Frodo could do nothing to see what pained Sam so.  
  
Envin returned with the knife and Frodo shied away. Sam held him tightly though and would not let him run. Frodo obeyed quietly and stayed put. Envin leaned over to Sam and held out the knife. "Do you think he understands the danger yet?" said Sam. Envin cast a glance to Frodo who was eyeing the knife warily.  
  
"I do," said Envin, "But he seems more concerned with- you."  
  
"What are you suggesting?" Sam cast a glance at the knife.  
  
"Would you?"  
  
"Of course!" said Sam without any hesitation. "That is if you think it will help."  
  
"Let us see," said Envin, holding aloft the knife again. Frodo shrank into Sam and whimpered pitifully. Sam's hold on Frodo's wrist tightened.  
  
Envin shone the knife in Frodo's eyes as he had done the last time. This time Frodo blinked and rubbed his eyes and then left them squeezed shut as a child trying to make frightful things go away. Simple thinking that if you do not see the danger it cannot be there. After a moment Frodo tentatively opened his eyes and Envin took this chance. He let the knife fall, swiftly without a falter, and slashed upon Sam's skin. Sam let out a cry.  
  
"Don't hold it in, Sam," Envin muttered, "Show him your pain."  
  
Sam grunted and a short sob escaped his throat as he gritted his teeth against the pain. He fell to his knees shaking. Alright, perhaps he could have stayed on his feet but Envin did say to show Frodo his pain. It was as if with that knife came all the memories of Frodo smiling at Bag-End as he saw his faithful gardener coming up the hill. As every image of his master leaning over a book and pointing to the smooth flowing script as Sam watched with awe. Images of Frodo showing him how to read, how to write, picking a thick book out of the library and clutching it warmly to him as if it were the most precious thing in the world. Frodo standing in the garden, complimenting on the beauty of the flowers in the fair elven tongue, then again in westron just as fair. And finally, Frodo, dragging his torn and broken body across the black, ashen lands of Mordor, resolve in his eyes. And now Sam expressed all of his pain in one simple scream as he fell to the ground and sobbed. For a moment he let the despair finally take him.  
  
Envin watched in horror before running to get the wraps and bonds for the shallow wound. Frodo's eyes widened as he fell to Sam's side gasping and crying. His eyes ran across Sam's whole body, darting back and forth frantically. His hands shook as they hovered over Sam. He did not know what to do! What could he do? What was wrong? Sam lay motionless for a long while still thinking of what his master used to be. He was barely aware that Frodo was leaning over him frantic with fear, worry, and confusion.  
  
His protector was limp. Just fell, withered as if the very legs were cut from under him. Frodo's mouth worked soundlessly in a mumble of nothing, trying to fit something, some word to all of this, some sound. He could come up with nothing but a loud cry and Envin returned with the wraps. He lifted Sam and suddenly the young gardener came back to that world and looked around wearily. "I'm sorry I must a' just lost my head."  
  
"Quite alright, Sam, you certainly got through to him." Sam turned as Envin was wrapping his arm and saw Frodo leaning forward, arms outstretched, mouth agape, and eyes full of tears.  
  
"Should I say something?" asked Sam as his heart wrenched at the sight of his master looking completely frightened and helpless.  
  
"Go right ahead, we are done for tonight." Envin finished cleaning Sam's cut and retreated to his things neatly putting away the wraps and cleaning the knife. Sam crawled over to where his master was sitting. Frodo was still, as if he had been struck in the face. He whimpered lightly as Sam took him in his arms. Something he had not done since they were in Mordor, trying to shield each other from the death and darkness all around them. Sam cradled his master like a child and mumbled kind words.  
  
"You see, Mr. Frodo?" he said gently. "There are good things in this world. Like the grass outside and the flowers. But there are bad things too. Do you understand?" Frodo just sniffed and smiled gently hopping to here some more babble. Sam did continue, knowing it made his master happy.  
  
"You see, flowers are very pretty, but also very delicate, you gotta know just what each one needs. Now they all need a good bit of water and sunlight but you just can't go pluckin' them from the ground like such. They die. You shouldn't pluck 'em especially when they are small and young, before they bloom. The buds are just baby flowers, you can't pluck 'em then." Frodo smiled up at Sam and he continued. "Now knives are sharp things. They aren't always hurtful, depends on who's usin' it, but you must always be careful. You cannot go foolin' with them like toys, or you'll get hurt again." Sam pressed a finger gently on Frodo's wrapped wound and he pulled away with a hiss of pain. "See?"  
  
Frodo turned confused eyes up to Sam. Sam sighed but Frodo was not finished. He took Sam's hand gently and laid it on his arm. He looked back up at Sam expectantly. Tears filled Sam's eyes. He was beginning to understand. "Yes," choked Sam. "That hurts don't it? A knife cut you. Knife. They hurt, I know, and they can kill you too."  
  
Frodo looked back down at the wrap. *A knife?* He turned this over in his mind for a while until Sam sighed and shifted. Frodo looked up expectantly at him, *What's troubling him now?*  
  
"Maybe we ought to get to bed," yawned Sam as he helped Frodo to his feet. Frodo followed but seemed to be occupied with his arm all night and did not fall asleep right away. *Knife.* 


	17. Connections and Convictions

A/N: Wow chibi neko thank you for all those reviews nothing is more rewarding I know my heart just leapt when I saw them all and the longer the better I love it when people notice every detail! You've made my day!  
  
I know this chapter is horribly short but essential and I think you all may like ::wink::  
  
~~~  
  
Frodo felt bright sunshine on his eyes and he jolted back frightened. Light was something he did not always like, when it shone in his eyes it often meant something painful was to come. He let his eyes focus slowly and he found himself safe and warm, but no protector. He looked around wildly wondering why he was all alone. He was frightened.  
  
Suddenly his ears pricked up and he stiffened. He heard babble, many different kinds. There was a harsh shrill tone that rose above the others and Frodo clutched his ears trying to make it go away. It did not and he whimpered, discontent. When he took his hands off his ears he heard two more sounds. They were both shaking, nervous and with a note of anger. But they sounded familiar, gentle and kind. He sat up and his eyes sought the source of the sounds. He could not understand the words. Suddenly Frodo recognized a voice. His protector. He scrambled out of the bed quickly and peered out the tent.  
  
There stood two tall men, one of the healers he already recognized but another seemed cruel and wicked looking. He saw his protector standing next to the familiar one and clenching his fists. Once again his voice rose above the other two. A fight? An argument?  
  
The nasty looking man pointed to Sam harshly and hollered something. "...dead...dead...knife!" Was all Frodo understood. His protector shook his head vehemently and his fists twitched eagerly. The younger man put a hand on his protector's shoulder as if shielding him from something.  
  
~~~  
  
Sam looked up at Envin and sighed. "This is ridiculous! I gave him permission to continue the treatment! You have no right to such accusations!" he cried, glaring at the other healer.  
  
"I've warned you of this before, Envin," said the elder healer. "I was against this treatment from the very start. Now I will go to the king about this once more. You have gone too far. What were you expecting to do with that knife, Envin? Did you wish to kill him? Do you want them both dead?" He once again pointed to Sam as he said this.  
  
~~~  
  
Frodo's hand dropped. He made an odd connection then. *Knife. Dead* These words he knew... vaguely. Quickly he darted back inside the tent and sought his old night dress with a wild anxiousness. He tore the old thing from where he remembered it was taken from him and his nimble hands dove into the breast pocket. It wrapped around something soft and he tore it out. Panting, he fell to his knees from working himself up in such a panic, clutching the little object to him. When he calmed down a bit he looked at the tiny flower in his palm and his eyes widened with fright. It was not what it was when he had picked it. Now it was wrinkled, withered, and black. It shriveled into a tiny curl and most of its blackened petals had fallen to the floor. It used to be green, vibrant, and strong, with pretty white petals and a soft fragrance. Now it was foul, it was wasted, it was... dead. So this is what dead meant! This is what it was! It meant that all the beauty, the vibrance, the good would just leave a blackened shell. And what about his protector? That man was calling him dead, wasn't he?  
  
It did seem so to Frodo. No wait! The knife! Would the knife do that to him!? Would the knife take away all the good, all the gentle kindness that he had come to rely upon and cling to so well? Would the knife make him dead? No! He could not let that happen! He could not let his protector become DEAD!  
  
~~~  
  
Sam entered the tent fuming. "That wicked old man! One day he's gonna get it hot from Sam Gamgee, no doubt about it!" Sam made a fist and narrowed his eyes. "He don't know what he's blatherin' about, I reckon. Where's he get that nerve to go sayin' you want me dead! Preposterous!"  
  
"Shh, Sam I know, try not to yell in front of Frodo."  
  
It was then that both hobbit and man noticed the figure weeping on the ground and Sam was the first to dart to his side. "Mr. Frodo! Mr. Frodo, what's wrong!?" Sam turned the weeping hobbit into his lap. Frodo turned frightened eyes to him and was suddenly relieved. He wrapped his arms around Sam's neck and continued weeping.  
  
*He isn't dead!* Was all that went through Frodo's mind.  
  
"What happened," asked Envin softly.  
  
Sam rocked Frodo gently, "I don't know." He looked down and saw the withered black petals. "Wait a moment." He released Frodo and pried open his palm. There lay the shriveled little bud. "I think this flower's upset him."  
  
"The flower?"  
  
Sam shrugged, "Let me just calm him down." He reached to take the flower but Frodo grunted and rolled off his lap, grasping the flower in a tight fist. When Frodo sat himself back up he pocketed the flower again and was content. Sam still did not understand but Frodo seemed under control now. In fact he did not seem to remember a moment ago he was weeping.  
  
Sam felt he could not quite take this any longer. He tried to be brave and strong but he felt the walls inside of him slowly cracking. He wondered how long he could hold it in. He wondered how long it would be before he went crazy himself. Sam tried not to think of it, just focus on breathing for the moment. He couldn't do it! He just couldn't do this any longer!  
  
He felt arms around him and realized he had been crying. He looked up but could only see a shoulder and long hair falling into his eyes. He knew immediately it was Envin and he felt safe to just cry. He could not see beyond the robes engulfing him, and he briefly wondered if Envin was shielding him from something.  
  
~~~  
  
Envin felt his own heart breaking but he knew someone had to stay strong. He knew this wasn't for Sam. This wasn't what this hobbit was meant to do. He shouldn't be expected to do this. As a healer Envin made quite a few guesses from the very beginning with these hobbits. He noticed for one that Sam was much younger than Frodo. He also had a great love and dedication towards his master, judging by the way he reacted to Frodo's condition and the very fact that he followed his master into the very uncouth evil of Mordor. And by the very dedication and strength he has shown for the past month! This hobbit's sanity could not hold any longer. He considered sending Sam away, somewhere where he could find peace, perhaps with Frodo's cousins, the other Pherrianath. But he knew this would do Sam no good. He could not be parted from his master.  
  
"Then what must I do!?" Envin's thought's cried. His mind was running a mile a minute. If he didn't do something fast this hobbit would have an emotional break down, if he hadn't already. Every option went through his mind until he finally thought of Sam's companions. Maybe he could seek healing from them?  
  
Envin's train of thoughts were broken by something tugging at his sleeve. He looked up to see Frodo, tears streaming down his face, he looked very panicked. When Envin looked down he saw that Sam had fell limp in his arms and Frodo was starting to hyperventilate.  
  
~~~  
  
Frodo watched as his protector just slumped down and put his hand to his face. He was shaking and making strange noises. Frodo did not know what to do. He watched as the man's arms wrapped around his protector. His mind was struggling to grasp this situation until he saw his protector's hand fall and he seemed to have stopped moving all together. His eyes darted back and forth. *What happened to him? What's this man doing? Why isn't he moving?!* Frodo's hand strayed to his pocket where he had put the dead flower. Tears started in his eyes. *Is he dead? Is my protector dead!?* He could not take it any more. His little hand wrapped around Envin's robe and he tugged as hard as he could, like a child anxious for attention. His whole body was jolting he pulled so hard. *Look! Look! Please look! Something's wrong!* The man lifted his head.  
  
~~~  
  
Envin saw that Sam had passed out. He lifted the limp hobbit and brought him over to the bed, Frodo tumbling over his heals, almost tripping him several times. He almost laughed at the eagerness of the little hobbit and the love he had toward Samwise, even if Sam could not quite see it. But he could not quite find the laughter in him as he layed Sam down on the bed. He looked at the hobbit's ashen face, streaked with cold tears, and wept in his heart. As he was trying to determine Sam's condition from his face the bed was jolted and he saw Sam furrow his brow and moan. Envin turned his gaze to the little hobbit struggling up on the bed, feet kicking wildly.  
  
"You want to see him?" Envin lifted Frodo and the little hobbit scampered to Sam's side and froze. "What do you want?" said Envin trying to figure out Frodo's reasoning. The hobbit did not acknowledge him but he slowly and cautiously lowered a trembling hand to brush at Sam's curls. He wondered at the softness as he pushed them and they sprung back to their original positions. Envin sighed and watched Frodo until the simple hobbit grew weary of this and sat patiently to wait for his protector to wake. 


	18. Fellowship

A/N: I'm soooo sorry about that terrible wait. It has been a wild few weeks and I've had a bit of a mental block. My own story is under serious construction as I try to make the "cornerstone" as it is called, of society LANGUAGE! Urgh ok I won't get into that. Hopefully you can expect chapters daily because of Spring Break.  
  
As for those of you wondering where I got my inspiration. I saw a picture of Frodo from the movie he was caught in such an innocent yet blank expression he looked like a frightened child just trying to understand why this cruel fate had been dealt to him. It touched me so much I just had to write it after all most of his innocence is lost after the Ring was taken from him. Here it is if you would like to see... _ 22.JPG  
  
Chapter --- 18 Fellowship  
  
Sam soon found himself standing outside the tent, shielding his eyes from the bright sun. In his hand he held a smooth, ash walking stick. His Lorien cloak was newly washed and felt cool and gentle on his shoulders. He sighed, he could remember setting out from Bag-End in a similar fashion. Frodo was standing silently at his side and for a moment, just a moment, Sam was able to wish himself away, as if things were perfectly normal, as if nothing had changed.  
  
"Come on, Sam Gamgee, this wishin' is doing you no good." He turned to Frodo who had been watching him expectantly, his mouth moving in silent awe as if trying to imitate the words. "Follow me, Mr. Frodo, we're going to meet some people." Sam lifted his walking stick and set out towards the camps. Frodo followed obediently.  
  
It had taken two days for Envin to entirely convince Sam to visit the rest of the Fellowship. He had to admit that Envin was right and that it felt so good to be up and about again though despair weighed heavily on his heart. He walked on for quite a while, slow and content, through the trees and glades, he sought everywhere for an Oliphaunt but found none. Frodo followed anxiously, also amazed and completely bewildered by the wonders of these trees and of the sun in the branches. At times he would stop and look around, turning his face upwards and scratching his head. Sam would stop and wait patiently and if it seemed that Frodo would not return from his reverie Sam would call him. He always snapped his head back, looking at Sam as if trying to register the words. Sam would have to motion to him or step next to him. Frodo always fell back into step.  
  
It seemed that very little time passed before the two came upon an opening into a sunlit glade where fallen stones scattered as if they were once steps and a small wall. Deep green vines twisted and blossomed with pale flowers all along the cracks in the stones. Sam looked upon the grassy turves and recognized that he was not far from the place of Aragorn's crowning. White flowers were strewn about, not wilting, and shimmering as if with failing moonlight. Perhaps this was the place of Aragorn's and Arwen's wedding as well. Sam felt a pang of guilt for not attending.  
  
"Well, Samwise, good of you to join us." Sam looked up abruptly and saw Merry and Pippin sitting lazily atop one of the stairs. They puffed on their pipes and smiled down at him.  
  
"Longbottom Leaf!" cried Sam, "Why you rascals! Where did you get it? It's been an age and a day since I've had a good smoke."  
  
"Well then that settles it, I insist you join us in a pipe," said Merry with a smirk. "Pip, give him some of your leaf."  
  
"Gladly," Pippin pulled out a little bag, bursting with pipe weed.  
  
"Oh, blast me but I haven't got my pipe. Something I wish I could have held onto through this whole thing."  
  
Merry laughed, "Oh dear, Samwise, I'm sure I have an extra in my pocket. Well what do you know!" He pulled out a second pipe and handed it to Sam. "You really ought to keep your head, Sam. Leaving your pipe in Mordor and all, what were you thinking? Now we're just have to go back and get it I suppose."  
  
Despite himself, Sam laughed and took the pipe and tobacco graciously. He settled himself on a lower step (never too fond of even the slightest of heights). He found it was just what he needed, feeling himself relax as he blew a smoke ring, then two. Frodo watched, mouth almost agape, as the little rings of smoke grew from the pipe.  
  
Pippin smiled slightly and set his own pipe down, watching his cousin. "Frodo?" he said in a voice that he did not intend to sound so meek and young. Merry and Sam turned to him so quickly that the curls on their heads seemed to bounce accusingly. Pippin briefly saw Merry's eyes tear up before his cousin turned away again just as quickly. Sam's eyes followed Pippin though and the youngest hobbit did not know what to do. His hand wavered for a moment as his eyes moved from Sam to Frodo to Merry. Frodo was still watching the smoke drift from Sam's pipe before he realized everyone's attention seemed to be on Pippin. He turned slowly.  
  
He watched the young hobbit seeming much younger than he really was, small and frightened like the little cousin he used to be. Frodo cocked his head wondering what all this distress was about. He looked behind him as if he expected some great monster to be there, frightening his companions. When he turned back they seemed ill at ease. Pippin had set his hand down as his breathing began to take a rapid pace. Merry set a comforting hand on his little cousin's back but could not force himself to look up. Sam seemed to be the only one with the power of speech as he muttered something in self- insult and turned all of his attention to his pipe.  
  
Frodo was very bewildered as he scratched his head and sat down with a little thud. He did not have time to ponder this long for there was a slight sound in the distanced and voices neared. Sam looked up and Frodo jolted nervously.  
  
"It's Gimli and Legolas by the sounds of it," said Merry. Sure enough, the elf and the dwarf appeared through the woods. Legolas was smiling slightly as he wondered at the trees and fair canopies of leaves above.  
  
"Hello young hobbits," said Gimli glad to be out of the thicket of trees and into the sun filled glade. His coal eyes moved from Pippin to Merry then to Sam at the bottom and Frodo sitting in the grass staring at him in gaping jawed wonder. Gimli's smile faded. "I didn't mean to frighten-" he began but Sam cut him off.  
  
"It's alright Mr. Gimli, sir. I don't reckon he's a frightened," said Sam solomnly.  
  
"He isn't?" said Gimli almost to himself, approaching the gaping hobbit cautiously. "Master Baggins?" Frodo cocked his head and blinked a few times. *It's talking to me.*  
  
He was very bewildered by this creature. What did it want from him? Frodo was not very concerned with its actions as much as its looks. He was furry. It was almost comical and Frodo smiled as he saw the beard wagging toward him.  
  
"He can't understand you," sighed Sam as he puffed his pipe sadly. Gimli looked up at Sam and straightened himself as if recovering pride. Legolas approached swiftly and silently putting a slender, fair hand on Sam's shoulder.  
  
"Sam," he began, slowly. "We are all deeply grieved, we feel just as helpless as you. I know no words in elvish or mannish to portray my sorrow, for I loved Frodo very much, as we all did. And even though this is not the Frodo we once knew, we can still hold him dear in our hearts and perhaps one day he may resurface from whatever dark place he has gone too."  
  
Sam put down his pipe and bit down on his lip to keep it from quiverring. He felt his throat constrict as he swallowed his tears. "I know, Mr. Legolas," said Sam in a strangely hallow tone, unnaturally level and not shaking with the emotion that was building up inside.  
  
There was a grunt of displeasure from Gimli and light laughter from Legolas. The hobbits looked up to see Frodo tugging gently on Gimli's beard. The dwarf laughed uneasily and pulled away leaving Frodo's hands groping the air. The simple hobbit furrowed his brow. Legolas's laughter faded quickly as he saw the look of dismay and confusion in the wise hobbit he once knew. It seemed everyone was not at heart for merriment. Legolas seemed to see deeper, far into the hobbit's blank eyes where he saw a small spot of darkness, like a wall, a cage. He sighed, his face never giving away the heartstricken grief he felt. He neared the hole in Frodo's mind, the part of his dear soul that the Ring tore mercilessly at, dragging it down into the fire with It. As he neared it he heard something, like a caged animal...... weeping. Quickly he was drawn away. What was there before it was ripped to shreds and burned in the fires of Mount Doom? He resolved to consult Gandalf on this later.  
  
It was as if is thoughts were heard and the wizard stepped into the glade, Lord Aragorn at his side. "Merry should this meeting be, if fate would have allowed it," said Gandalf solemnly. "Dear was the price we paid for peace!" His grey eyes searched the tattered shreds of the fellowship before him. They were all bowed as if a great weight still bore down upon all of their shoulders, even Legolas seemed to have aged with weariness. The elf's eyes shimmerred and locked with Gandalf's for a moment and the wizard heard his voice in his mind. He nodded in answer and the elf bowed his head, sighing.  
  
Gimli was stroking his beard thoughtfully, his eyes dull and tired. Even Merry and Pippin who seemed once reckless and tireless were hunched over, running the backs of their hands over their eyes. There used to be an energetic brightness to the youngest hobbit's eyes and yet even Pippin had grown old and weary.  
  
Gandalf even saw the despair within the King of Gondor. Aragorn had always born a great burden as a Ranger even before he met Frodo Baggins. He was a strong man, stern and just, leader among his people. He held great responsibility ever since he turned twenty and left the safety in Rivendell to join his people and take his place among them. Now a greater responsibility was upon him and the Kind of Gondor had a great deal of work to do the loss of the hobbit he once held with great respect was devastating for this travel-worn and battle-torn man as well.  
  
It was Sam that caught the wizard's eye. He was small and seemed like a dark shadow among the rest of the fellowship. The sun inside of him had died down to embers that only Gandalf's eye could see. He was weary and despairing almost to the point of great illness, all that he once held onto as safe and constant had shattered before this young hobbit's eyes. Gandalf would have expected even the strongest man to go mad at this poing. Sam had strength left in him. "Too much has changed," said Gandalf, capturing Sam's attention. His eyes were turned away from Gandalf yet his head perked up as his ear twitched slightly. "Even our fellowship which was made to withstand all blows has been damaged by loss and battle. Things have changed for ill... and for good." Sam sat up but did not turn around. "We lost two dear souls whom we shall forever grieve. Boromir has fallen, protecting his fellow members of the fellowship." Pippin hiccoughed and Merry sat up proudly. "We owe him much," continued Gandalf. "He was a bold and brave man and his faults were no greater than that which we all have deep inside. Another great loss was that of our dear Ringbearer who was a beloved cousin, a kind master, and a dear friend to me before he ever had to bear his burden. He proved great strength against the Ring, more than anyone else could have ever summoned. He-"  
  
"He never 'ad ta prove it!" Sam screamed as he jumped to his feet. "He didn't 'ave ta prove nothin' ta me! NOTHIN'! He were MY master afore he were yer RINGBEARER!" Sam spat the word with scorn; 'Ringbearer'. "I don' care if none o' Middle-Earth were left fer you pompous... you..." Sam searched desperately for a word to describe what he thought of every living being on Middle-Earth who survived because of his master's loss. "Ninnyhammers!" he burst into tears. Sam was normally as fairspoken as is education would allow him to be. He was brimming with anger and it poured out in a flow of crude and mispronounced words as he could not get any part of his mind to register anything but fury.  
  
The fellowship was silent with shock but Frodo was just very confused. What had these strange beings done to hurt his protector? Frodo stood and frowned at each of them before running to Sam's side and embracing him warmly. Sam's body hitched with sobs as he looked up. He jumped to his feet imediately as Frodo's hand fell and the simple hobbit tumbled to the ground. He looked up with fear and fright as Sam pushed him away. "Get away from me! You ain't me master!"  
  
"Samwise," Gandalf bellowed strongly but with pity in his tone."Get a hold of your anger, as you can see Frodo cannot do it for you like he used to." Sam stood frozen, his face screwed into an undescribable expression, as if someone had just thrust sword in his gut and twisted it. "I'm sorry to be harsh, Sam. But you have to realize this is not what Frodo wants. What did that pitiful hobbit do to you?" Sam looked down at Frodo whose eyes were brimming with tears.  
  
"I...I..."  
  
"You need to calm down, Sam. And that is why we are here. This fellowship was made to help Frodo bear his burden. Now it will be remade to help you bear yours."  
  
"Oh, Gandalf," Sam quiverred. "I don't... I can't..." He bowed his head and hugged his arms to himself shamefully. "I didn't mean ta... ta..."  
  
"Yes you did, Sam," said Merry sadly. "We all meant to do it. You were the only one brave enough. But I'm not ashamed. I loved him too. No one knew him like I did, save Bilbo. And because we love him so much, we do these things." He stepped down from the stone step and laid a hand on Frodo's shoulder. "And I'll still love him."  
  
The simple hobbit shiverred violently, looking from Merry to Sam rapidly. He was very confused as his eyes darted wildly. Sam crouched down and Frodo withdrew into Merry with a sob. Sam bit his lip and fell back. "I can't do this," said Sam in such a low whisper only Merry and Frodo heard. Frodo's lips imitated the words but no sound came out. "How can he live like this?"  
  
Sam turned pleading eyes toward Merry. Merry looked a little uncertain for a moment then smiled weakly. "With us." 


	19. Revenge

A/N: Chantelli - Whoever said I was planning to make Frodo normal at all? ::laughs evilly:: this story has still got a long way to go for good or ill it may turn out. The 'happily ever after' ending is not written in stone ya know. Normal! ::laughs again:: That's funny. I am guarenteeing nothing! I shan't give away the ending. Also I'm sorry that the link did not work I shall post it in my bio so that you may see.  
  
The Fellowship spent the rest of the day in that glade without so much as a complaint from Merry or Pippin about food and drink. They watched the sunset and the sky grow dark and Legolas named the stars as they came out. Aragorn sang softly but no one was in true mood for merriment. It would be often that they urged Sam for one of his own songs like the time he had made up the one about the troll. No one really pushed Sam to do anything. He harkened Aragorn's singing and tried to memorize the names of some stars and constellations.  
  
Pippin and Merry snuffed out their pipes long ago and curled up next to eachother for warmth. Gandalf smiled as he looked upon them under the starlight as it lit their pale faces with a soft glow. "They look as the young elves before their wakening in Arda." Legolas smiled at this though he had been listening to Sam recite the stars he was just taught. Aragorn halted in his song about an elven maiden fair. He looked upon Merry and Pippin and smiled.  
  
"I have grown to love these hobbits in such a short time. These four especially. I will take them to bed." He gathered up Merry and Pippin and they sighed contentedly resting their heads on his shoulders. He strode away with a smooth gait as not to rattle them from their dreams. Gimli slowly followed bidding the rest a good night and a welcoming morn. Sam and Legolas had not been listening though Gandalf nodded and wished him dreams of deep mines laden with jewels fair.  
  
"Nay might I dream of better times for our young hobbits," said the dwarf and he turned and left.  
  
Frodo had fallen asleep long ago, curled up like a faithful dog by Sam's feet. Pippin had not said it, but he remembered the night they met Gildor, Sam had done the same to Frodo. His breath hitching was the only sign he gave of the surfacing of the memory. He then drifted into sleep and dreamt of Gildor singing and walking under the stars with his cousin and Samwise.  
  
Frodo murmurred incoherently in his sleep, no words could be made of his uneasy sounds and his body rose and fell unsteadily. Gandalf tried to push his mind into more peaceful dreams but the hobbit seemed blocked off from all of Gandalf's magic. He thought about this oddly. "Why is his mind blocked from mine? There is a wall." Gandalf did not voice these thoughts openly but kept them in his memory for more studying when he was alone.  
  
The simple hobbit whimpered and curled tighter into himself brushing himself against Sam's feet for comfort. He sighed feeling the warmth of his protector and drifted deeper into abyss.  
  
~~~  
  
"Helluin..." Sam's tired eyes moved across the sky slowly. He felt very weary and his limbs lethargic. His pipe hung from the corner of his mouth as he mumbled the names he had memorized. Every so often his eyes would snap shut and he would pry them halfway open again to continue. "Borgil..." he yawned, "Nénar... " He had dozed by now and Legolas smiled as he ran his slender hand through the hobbit's curls soothingly.  
  
Gandalf approached and cradled Frodo gently. The little hobbit furrowed his brow sensing that he was being taken away from his protector. Gandalf pressed a hand to his brow like a worried mother checking her child's temperature. "Dear friend, you have done so much for us, and you lost so much, still must you suffer?" Frodo turned his face away and whimperred.  
  
Legolas lifted Sam and the gardener murmurred, "Valacirca... Remmirath..."  
  
Legolas smiled, "I have been meaning to speak with you, Gandalf. Might we walk a while after we put these dear ones to bed."  
  
"But of course, Legolas, I have had quite a bit on my mind as well."  
  
The two figures moved under the stars bearing their precious burdens to the tent. When they entered they were met by a warm glow of firelight. They spied Envin slouched in a chair with a book layed upon his lap. He groaned as he slowly returned to consciousness. Legolas and Gandalf tucked Sam and Frodo gently into their quilts as Envin's eyes slid halfway open.  
  
"What's all this?" he muttered, still half asleep. "I can bring him back... I know... I can... Just... More time..."  
  
"A hótule asinye i meneltannar tirien," whispered Legolas and they departed silently.  
  
The wizard and elf walked silently for a while gazing at the constellations. When they were safely on the path they dared to speak again. "That man, he is different," said Legolas.  
  
"Envin is a young healer, skilled and very stubborn," said Gandalf gravely.  
  
"Will you not tell him that the hobbits will be departing soon? What time he thinks he has, he does not."  
  
"I will tell him," said Gandalf. "But I wish not for him to think his efforts are futile. He may perhaps be doing the right thing."  
  
"Is it true? About his methods?"  
  
"That depends on what you are asking is true. If it is that they are harmful to the hobbits then, no, I do not believe so."  
  
"So it is true. He does cut them. I cannot see how that would ever help him," said Legolas doubtfully.  
  
Gandalf laughed, "Yes and I could have never have seen a hobbit throwing down the reign of the dark lord Sauron that has plagued the lives in Arda for as many years as I can remember. But there you have it. I once said to Frodo that even the wisest could not see all ends. That there are things beyond yours, and even my sight."  
  
"I trust you, Gandalf. And strangely enough, I trust that man, there is a light inside of him. I pray that it is in more than just him."  
  
"There is a great light inside so very many souls. It is nothing to make light of. I have not yet seen darkness that could entirely consume it. Even Frodo may have hope."  
  
"Gandalf," Legolas began slowly, "That brings me to what troubles me. When I looked at Frodo I saw a hole in him. There is a part of him that is gone."  
  
"I know, Legolas. The Ring wound around him tightly. It wove within the very fibers of his soul and became an extension of him. I would not be surprised if during that last leg of the quest there was less of Frodo inside that body than the monster the Ring created."  
  
"How horrid for Sam!" Legolas cried with dismay.  
  
"For them both! For I believe Frodo knew well what he was becoming and what he was doing to Sam. He was wishing for death on that mountain. Sometimes I wonder if I should have left him. I will tell you, Legolas, that when I picked up their bodies I took Sam's first."  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Through the filth and smoke of the Mordor sky Gandalf spied the two figures splayed upon the landscape. Flame surged down the sides of the mountain as embers filled the sky with the red fury of the mountain. Gandalf sheilded himself with his staff as he descended upon Gwahir. As they came into closer view he saw Sam slump over as he finally gave up the fight. He still leaned protectively over his master who had fallen into darkness in Sam's lap. Gandalf looked upon them with such pity that his ancient heart was rent.  
  
"Take them, Gandalf," cried Gwahir above the turmoil and destruction. "The fire nears with speed. I will have not time to get us to safety."  
  
Gandalf leaned over and took Sam. As he lifted him from under Frodo, the Ringbearer rose and fell with a hallow thud. Gandalf winced at the sound and how Frodo's limp body did not even react to the harsh fall. Sam was heavy with dead weight, limp and responded to nothing. Gandalf shook him roughly but Sam remained still, his eyes drooping and lined with exhaustion and his skin parched from dehydration. Gandalf could feel the little hobbit's ribcage as he placed him on Gwahir. He saw that Sam's breeches were completely soaked through with crimson blood and scattered with dark curls.  
  
"Hurry Gandalf!" cried the eagal.  
  
The wizard looked upon Frodo's broken features with pity welling inside of him. His eyes pierced the little body only to see that there was nothing left. The soul had either fled or fallen deep, even deeper than the wizard's eye could see. There was no hope for Frodo. He was dead and if not his wound would sooner kill him than the very fires rushing to his little body. Perhaps this was best. All Frodo had was a broken life to return to. He would no longer be the same if he survived at all.  
  
"Alright, Gwahir!" he cried, "We will go!"  
  
"The hobbit!" said the eagle impatiently seeing that his friend had left a body.  
  
"He is dead," whispered Gandalf. Gwahir was about to rise when there came a groan from Sam.  
  
"I ain't gonna let nothing happen, Mr. Frodo. We'll be back in the Shire soon, just please try an' take another step. I know it's hard... I know it..." his voice faded with a final note, "...hurts..."  
  
Gandalf felt his heart twist as the small hobbit murmurred in his sleep. He looked once more upon Frodo and felt tears in his eyes."Wait!" Gandalf cried as Gwahir began to rise. "This one will surely die if I leave him." He bent and lifted Frodo as the fire touched his toes and burned the fur off of his feet.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Legolas stopped dead in the road. "You were going to... going to...?"  
  
"Yes," sighed Gandalf. "And perhaps it would have been a better fate. Ignorrance is the cruelest punishment that can be dealt. Even Melkor did not perfect such forms of punishment. This is the last thing Frodo deserves."  
  
"Oh Gandalf," Legolas ran a hand over his eyes. "I thought I could weep no more tears and yet more come. I would rather die than see Frodo like this!"  
  
Gandalf nodded, "There is a wall. I could feel it. Something is stopping him, from seeing all that he should. But even I could not go so deeply."  
  
"I saw it too, Gandalf. I also heard something. Weeping. He was crying. Which reminds me of my question. If the Ring became a part of him. If it took hold onto a part of his soul and therefore was able to gain form. What was It? What did it become?"  
  
"I am not sure. I think he became two people like Smeagol. There was a Gollum in Frodo, when the Ring died so did Gollum, it dragged Frodo down with it."  
  
"No!" cried Legolas. "It hid him away! It must have known and caged him in!"  
  
Gandalf nodded in understanding, "The Ring's final revenge."  
  
"Then there is still hope!" cried Legolas with great joy. "Yé! Utúvienyes!"  
  
"Yes, Legolas," Gandalf smiled. "It seems you have."  
A/N: "Yé! Utúvienyes!" literally translates to "Horray! I have found it!" But it can be understood as "Horray! I have found the truth!" Also "A hótule asinye i meneltannar tirien." Is translated to "Come outside with me and look at the constellations." 


	20. Doom

"I'm drowning..."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I can't breathe..."  
  
"Sam, you're dreaming."  
  
"Please don't leave me!" Sam sat bolt upright and looked around. Envin was watching him cautiously with a small bowl and pestil in hand. Sam put a hand to his heart and felt the quick beating as his other hand brushed over his bleary eyes. "It- It was a dream?" his eyes wide with fright as he tried to gasp for the air he thought he could never have again. He looked around, memory slowly seeping into his dream filled mind. "No- no it wasn't." He fell back despairingly.  
  
"You have been dreaming about the quest," said Envin.  
  
Sam nodded slowly, "I am getting used to it. I just wish I can stay in one place. One day we're in the woods with Gildor listening to elves sing about stars and my heart is glad. But another day we will be in the dark of Moria and there is fire and shadow and orcs. Then in the comfort of Tom Bombadil or Rivendell or Lothlorien. Then on the cold face of Caradhras, or in the cruel maze of Emyn Muil, or on..." Sam took in a shaky breath, "Mount Doom."  
  
Envin sat down, "Do you remember much about that place?"  
  
"No, not in the waking world. At least... I won't let myself. Oh please don't make me! The very name is a pain in my heart!" Sam bit down on his lip, "I'm sorry, I must sound completely loony."  
  
Envin smiled, "Yes you do, but I know for a fact you're not 'loony'." Sam sighed and Envin tucked him back in, "Nor are you 'mad', 'insane', 'looped', or 'crazy'. It took a lot to do what you have done, Samwise, and coming out alive is just as unbelievable. But coming out alive and sane, well that is a feet only hobbits seem capable of."  
  
Sam's eyes drifted to Frodo and Envin knew what terrible thoughts went through his head. "He's not 'loony' either, Sam. Just lost. And if it's lost..."  
  
"...It can always be found," Sam finished, then looked up with sparkling eyes. "My Gaffer used to say that."  
  
"My father says such things," Envin picked up his bowl and the herbs he was crushing and left the tent. Sam turned to Frodo and sighed wistfully. Frodo had turned to his side in his sleep, curled up small and tight, with his slender hands lain upon each other under his fair cheek. He looked like a sleeping child, troubled slightly by shadowy dreams that he could not grasp or understand. Sam ran a hand through his curls. "I understand them when I dream them, Mr. Frodo, and sometimes I wish I didn't." Frodo's lips parted in a whimper and he drifted through the shadows, deeper into darkness.  
  
Sam observed Frodo's position oddly. He never used to sleep like that. It was never his wont to do such things, so insecurely. Even in Mordor he lay stretched out as if on his funeral pyre but unafraid. Sam shuddered at the thought. But in the comfort of Bag-End oh so many thousand years ago (or so it seemed to Sam) he would lay comfortably in his bed, arms above the covers or lazily placed behind his head, a small smile playing on his lips. This is how Sam found him in the mornings as he drew back the curtains and let the sun flood in.  
  
This way of sleeping, it was strange to Sam's eyes. He had only seen children sleep such a way because they were frightened of things that lived in the shadows at night. He remembered sleeping like that himself as a child and his mother would run a hand across his brow and it would always straighten him out, make him feel safe.  
  
"You're safe now, Mr. Frodo." Frodo moaned in protest and tossed his head. "I wonder," said Sam, "what is goin' on in there." He pressed a hand to Frodo's brow as if trying to read his thoughts. Of course he saw nothing. He sighed. It was then that Envin returned.  
  
"I have seen the Lord and Lady approaching, Sam," said Envin, calmly. His eyes traveled the length of Sam to see if he were in a condition to have visitors. "I can see that last night offered you greater healing than any of a healer's skills could."  
  
"Being with friends was an ease on my heart," said Sam thoughtfully. "But not for you I am sure I'd be dead."  
  
"Perhaps."  
  
Envin's eyes strayed to the white stone Lady Arwen had given him. "A kingly gift," he said. "Does it bring you peace? I have heard little of elvish magic."  
  
"It is not meant for me," said Sam smiling and fondling the stone. "It was meant for Mr. Frodo and I suppose that I shall give it to him whether he returns or not. It has helped me through these dark days and perhaps it may help him."  
  
"A noble act, Samwise. But I have seen that that is what you halflings are all about."  
  
It was then that Aragorn and Arwen entered the tent in all of their grace. Aragorn seemed more kingly than he had ever on the quest and he bore it humbly. Envin bowed to each of them and retreated to his things in the corner knowing that they would want to speak with Samwise alone. Aragorn set a hand on his shoulder, "I would like to be speaking with you as well."  
  
"Yes, my lord," Envin bowed again and left with Aragorn.  
  
Arwen smiled at Sam and he held his breath trying not to stare in wonder. He failed. Arwen's laugh lilted and reminded Sam as stars shivering in the night. Her eyes sparkled and Sam's jaw almost hung open. "What is the problem, Sam? Does my company not compensate for your Rose?"  
  
Sam blushed crimson up to the tips of his ears and he bowed his head, "Oh, no! Lady Arwen you are more pretty than any words I could say or poem I could think of. Oh," he said frustrated, "no words of mine do you no justice." He blushed again, "Mr. Frodo was fine with words, he was, he'd know what to say. I'm sorry, my lady, but I was only meant to be a simple gardener and I wouldn't even know my letters if not for Mr. Frodo. And Rosie. Oh she is the finest lass I ever met, beggin' your pardon.  
  
"Lady Arwen, you are like the stars on a clear night in the Shire, only for me to look at and wonder at but much too far away. Rosie is like the most precious flower in my garden, pretty and fair, and everything else can just wither and die for all I care, with her I'd have the most beautiful garden in all of Middle-Earth and that's enough for me."  
  
Arwen smiled warmly and bent to kiss Sam. "You, Samwise Gamgee, are a treasure. I would have you if you were not already taken by a lass whom I am sure is as fair as you say."  
  
Sam's eyes widened, "But- I- A-Aragorn..."  
  
Arwen laughed, "Oh I love him, and he loves me just as greatly. And I suppose it is the same for me." She smiled and bent down and whispered into the hobbit's ear. "You are the stars, Sam."  
  
Aragorn came striding in and sat beside his wife. "Samwise you would not be trying to steal my wife away from me?"  
  
"If he were truly trying, love, I'm sure he just may," said Arwen.  
  
Aragorn smiled and Sam finally understood the jest. He laughed uneasily still blushing.  
  
"A fair morning, Samwise," greeted Aragorn and Sam eased into much more simple conversation.  
  
"I couldn't say, sir, I have not seen it yet. Though I do feel a might better, it was something kind of you last night."  
  
"It was not my dealing at all, but Envin's. He cares much for the well being of you as well as your master. But I am afraid that you will be facing a choice Samwise. I have already spoken to Envin about this and he has agreed that you should choose this. We will be departing tomorrow and travel to Rohan bearing Theoden to his final resting place. I will accompany you only thus far. Then you may continue to Rivendell with the company of Gandalf and the elves and then on home to your Shire."  
  
"I would love nothing more than to return home, Strider sir."  
  
"Yes, but your other choice is to stay in Gondor. You are forever welcome in my kingdom and there you and Frodo may stay. My people will do everything to make you comfortable, you will be given anything your heart desires, Samwise, including a garden and land that would be more than enough for you to call home. Envin will tend your master and perhaps in time he may find healing, though no one can see that far ahead. Or if you wish to return to the Shire and be with your Rose then Frodo may stay here Envin has volunteered his home for your master and guarantees to give him the utmost care. What do you wish?"  
  
Sam had turned many pale shades during this conversation until he finally swallowed and spoke hoarsely. "I admit that I wish nothing more than to see the Shire again. In all my years it has been home and has been the one thing I could trust would not go changin' on me. But... Mr. Frodo... He would find no healin' there. And Rosie, I would so love to see her again. But I can't leave my master, not after all this, not now, he needs me now, more than ever. I suppose it's down to abandoning him to *perhaps* find healing if it's even possible, or condemning him to live the rest of his days in ignorance but sticking by him none the less. Or... I can stay... and... and never go home..." Sam began to sob. "I guess I know what I have to do."  
  
"No, Sam," said Envin as he rose from his corner then. "This is about your healing too. And the only way for you to heal is to return home."  
  
"But I cannot leave my master!"  
  
Envin sighed and now for the first time he let Sam see his utter wear. All of his sorrow and tire and exhaustion, all of his pity and despair and anger. His face seemed to grow old and the shine in his eyes dulled, he slumped over and ran a hand across his tearing eyes then rested it on his head as if it grew terribly heavy. "Sam I- even if you leave Frodo- I cannot- I- there's no sure way he *really* can heal. In- in fact it's pr- probable that he... won't."  
  
Sam took a shaky breath and Arwen placed her hands on his shoulders to steady him. "Very well," said Sam with a note of sorrow in his voice. "We will both leave with the elves..."  
  
"...and Frodo's fate is determined..." Envin finished sadly. All eyes turned to the sleeping creature curled up in the bed. Sam brushed at his master's curls as if he were his own son. Arwen touch the back of her hand to the sides of his face warmly and Aragorn rested a hand on his shoulder feeling the slow rise and fall of his breaths. Frodo sighed as if a new feeling of safety washed over him. "It seems he is doomed to live out the rest of his days," Envin swallowed hard around a lump in his throat, "simple." 


	21. Mirror of the Evenstar

A/N: Sorry about the long wait a lot of things happened after easter so I kinda didn't have any me time which is bad for the people that have to see me every day cuz I can get very very terrible to live with heh. But I'm back and I gotta say WOW for all those reviews! So many you guys are soo great! I can really count on you ::tear:: thank you this would be a terrible story without you.  
  
2nd A/N: The date mentioned in here is very significant. ::cough:: ::cough:: might wanna look it up ::cough:: ::cough::  
  
~~~  
  
"Envin son of Erian I beg you leave and take rest among your kin. Even your brother Emáten took rest when his part in the battle was over," said Arwn still chafing Frodo's cheeks with a feather light touch.  
  
"It is over, isn't it?" Envin's voice shook with despair. "I have failed him."  
  
"No, sir Envin, I do not see it that way. When your brother was struck in battle, and fell, his strength was gone and he fought to the last. If he went on any longer he would have died, so the battle was indeed over for him, but it was not lost. He did his part as you have done yours and none was in vain. The battle is not over yet, and hope may come unlooked for."  
  
Aragorn looked down lovingly at his wife, "It seems to be so, that hope is found in the darkest places, but I should have known that well. It was Bilbo, himself who said it in verse so many years ago and the wise hobbit's words prove true today!  
  
From the ashes a fire shall be woken  
  
From darkness a light shall spring  
  
"Still if there is hope for Frodo," he looked down at the sleeping hobbit and his eyes saddened, "I do not see it."  
  
Envin sighed, "You are kind to me fair lady, and in you heart there is great mercy and forgiveness."  
  
"There is nothing to forgive," she answered softly. "You have done no wrong. In my eyes your work has indeed saved Frodo."  
  
"How, my lady! I see no result!" cried Envin despairingly.  
  
"You do not have my foresight."  
  
"What do you see, love!" cried Aragorn just learning this for himself.  
  
"Little. I see very little in Frodo's future, neither long nor healthy life."  
  
Envin wept.  
  
"But..." said the lady holding up a slender hand that seemed to glimmer with starlight. Envin felt his heart lighten as if the grief had lessened and his eyes saw before them a vision of the hobbits he had been caring for standing in a dim room, small with a low roof and a round door. Frodo and Sam seemed to be standing there in the midst of such a great crowd of hobbits Envin could never have guessed existed. There was a heavy tention, some grave standstill as if a moment in time had been preserved, frozen. The vision seemed fleeting and clouded with a heavy mist but Envin still saw it. A great white man standing before Sam and Frodo, terrible and filled with malice. His hands lost in a great array of dirtied white robes. Sam was stone still, glaring at the horrible man with a stout hearted fierceness as if he were thrice the size of the man. There was poison and mock laughter in the evil man's eyes and Envin feared for Sam. Envin then saw Frodo, standing by Sam's side but not looking at Sam, nor into the burning eyes of that man but all of his attention seemed to focussed on something else... The mist gathered and there was a flash of light as many shrill cries of high hobbit voices and Envin found himself lost in darkness. When he opened his eyes he was back in the tent blinking wearily.  
  
"What was that?" he looked at the lady Arwen, confused.  
  
"It is what I have seen."  
  
"Who was that man! What has he done to Frodo and Sam!"  
  
"He hasn't done it yet."  
  
"Is this what will happen if Frodo stays like this? Is this both of their doom? Will Sam fall as well!"  
  
Sam's eyes grew wide as hearing this exchange. Aragorn put a hand on his shoulder comfortingly. Envin's eyes fell on Sam and they seemed full of fear and uncertainty. "Don't go, Samwise. You have to stay here, you're safe here. If you go back... I'm afraid that... something...."  
  
Sam slowly slipped off the bed and steaded himself on his feet. "Envin, whatever you saw was meant for you to see, not me. I seen things afore too, once, very long ago. I was in Lorien and the Lady asked if I wished to look into her mirror. In it I saw terrible things, my home burned, my Gaffer homeless... and I was a frightened for them. I wanted to go back to stop any of that from happening.... but..."  
  
~~~  
  
Then suddently Sam gave a cry and sprang away. 'I can't stay here,' he said wildly. 'I must go home. They've dug up Bagshot Row, and there's the poor old gaffer going down the Hill with his bits of things on a barrow. I must go home!'  
  
'You cannot go home alone,' said the Lady. 'You did not wish to go home without your master before you looked in the Mirror, and yet you knew that evil things might well be happening in the Shire. Remember that the Mirror shows many things, and not all have yet come to pass. Some never come to be, unless those that behold the visions turn aside from their path to prevent them. The Mirror is dangerous as a guide of deeds.'  
  
Sam sat on the ground and put his head in his hands. 'I wish I had never come here, and I don't want to see no more magic,' he said and fell silent. After a moment he spoke again thickly, as if struggling with tears. 'No, I'll go home by the long road with Mr. Frodo, or not at all,' he said. 'But I hope I do get back some day. If what I've seen turns out true, somebody's going to catch it hot!'  
  
~~~  
  
"You wanted me to go back to the Shire before Lady Arwen showed you what she saw. You knew it was what was right for me and in my heart I know it is too. Never listen to your head, Sam Gamgee, it ain't the best part a you. Maybe, like the images in Galadriel's Mirror, they are not what will be but what may be, if you catch my meanin'.  
  
"I didn't turn away from my master, I don't regret it. I can't turn away from my decision this time either. We will both return home, Frodo and me, and whatever happens happens." Sam sighed heavily.  
  
"Come Envin we will seek your family and find you rest then you may return to say farewell to Samwise and Frodo tomorrow," Aragorn helped Envin out of the tent. When they were gone Sam let himself stumble backward and lean against the bed running a hand over his eyes. "I don't think I can take another moment a this Mr. Frodo. Please..." he murmured, "where are you?"  
  
Sam felt cool hands on his shoulders, straighten him out and sit him back on the bed. "Lady Arwen. I'm sorry, I forgot-"  
  
"Shh, Samwise there is something I wish to speak to you about." Her eyes fell on the white stone hanging around Sam's neck. He grasped it gently and nodded.  
  
"I been meanin' to mention something about this too. I reckon it's really meant for Mr. Frodo and it should help him now. He's not in that dark place any more. Lord Elrond went in and found him, don't think I've forgotten or none. He was a deal worse off. I reckon I can cope now, if you follow."  
  
"Samwise this has guided you through the darkness of these past weeks and now you must leave all of this protection. You will be off home soon and you must find your own strength, you will need it for there are still trials before you." Arwen's fair hands traveled into a silken pouch about her robes and she presented Sam with a beautifully carved wooden box with delicate vines etched in its sides. She opened it to reveal a silk embroidered pillow for the stone to rest upon. Sam saw that the top of the box was painted with tiny stars and flowers and silver elven script. Frodo had taught Sam to read Westron but not Quenya and he could not decipher the gentle flowing script.  
  
"You may keep the stone in here and when the master you once knew returns give it to him," instructed the Lady. Sam slipped off the stone and placed it upon the pillow. She closed the box delicately.  
  
"B-but what if-"  
  
"If, Samwise, that you believe he will never return to you then it is yours on the date of September the twenty first in 1421 of the Shire Reckoning."  
  
"Why then?"  
  
"I cannot say. Trust me, Sam."  
  
"I trust you, Lady Arwen."  
  
She smiled and her countenance became so very fair and alight with beauty that Sam gasped again and she laughed like that of the shiverring of stars on a warm Spring evening. She set aside the wooden box and held out her arms gathering the hobbit and pressing him close. She lay a gentle kiss upon his crown and took a deep breath. "You'll be alright, Sam. You'll be alright."  
  
The little gardener blushed as he submitted to the warm embrace of the graceful queen. He felt the kiss upon his head and warmth filled him as his heart grew light. He laughed lightly and smiled up at the Lady eyes sparkling.  
  
There came a little sigh as Frodo stired to waking. Sam and Arwen looked down as they saw his eyes fluttered open in a bright flash of blue. He stared at the ceiling for a moment before turning to the two figures sitting on the edge of the bed. His face brightened with recognition as he looked at Sam but then turned with confusion to Arwen.  
  
"It's alright, Mr. Frodo," said Sam, reaching out a hand.  
  
"He knows it is, Sam," Arwen held out one as well. Frodo looked at it and smiled, his eyes shimerring with wonder as he gently laid his small, fragile hand into the Lady's. Her slender fingers enclosed around his tiny hand covering the small gap that his finger left. She pulled him toward her and held him close like Sam. She looked at both hobbits and smiled. "You'll be alright."  
  
Frodo sighed contentedly and snuggled close as a child to his mother. Sam resisted a similar urge to cuddle into the protection of a mother's embrace, after all he was a grown hobbit. He shook his head fiercely. So! Frodo was too! Sam tried to remind himself of that as he put a hand on his master and gently pulled him away. Frodo groaned, displeased with the change of his position, curled safely in the arms of another protector. Sam smiled weakly at him.  
  
"No, Sam," said Arwen, pulling them both tight. "There is no shame in taking comfort in the safety of a friend's arms. You are strong but you will need to draw strength from others as well. Frodo is right."  
  
Sam blushed but complied settling against the crook in the Lady's arm. He pictured his mother cradling him after he was sick for a long spell, feverish with an aching tummy. After a moment Frodo pulled away as if he had drawn a good deal of strength and healing from the Lady. His bright eyes fell on Sam and he leaned over watching him closely. Sam peeked one eye open, then another and gave Frodo a watery smile.  
  
"Come, let us go for a walk on our last day for comfort. Tomorrow we begin a long journey to Rohan and there will be little rest for you long after."  
  
"How long will it be before we reach Rohan?" asked Sam as he climbed down and helped his master to his feet.  
  
"It is a fifteen day journey but then we will depart and I will return here with my husband and you will begin a long journey home."  
  
"I reckon it will be a deal more pleasant than the journey gettin' here," said Sam as he took the Lady's right hand and Frodo took the left.  
  
When they stepped out of the tent the sun was high and the morning was warm as it came nigh noon. The birds sang in a high tone that made the air feel light with music. Sam breathed in the fresh sent of blossoming flowers and growing grass. He could not say that the Lady gave him hope, he found little within himself as he watched Frodo stare, mouth agape with wonder at the birds, the trees, the flowers. Frodo squinted his eyes and stared up at the sky, he blinked several times and rubbed his eyes at the assualt by the bright sun. Sam sighed, no he could find no more strength in him to hope but the Lady Arwen seemed so sure of it. He sighed and looked down at his feet. "No, I reckon nothin' will ever be the same again," he thought quietly.  
  
Arwen laughed and shook her head as if she read Sam's thoughts and he blushed. 


	22. Dead

A/N: ::shuffles near with a overly large shield and a white flag:: ok ok I'm sorry please don't hurt me! I'm having some trouble getting out of a slump. Please forgive me! Perhaps this may pick up some momentum if I get lots of reassuring reviews?... ::gets pelted with rotten fruit:: Achsss! ::flees with shield and flag trailing behind::  
  
~~~  
  
Sam could slowly feel himself returning to consciousness. For once, he had slept well, dreamless and peaceful. He did not want to leave it, but he could sense something near him and his eyes slowly peeked open. At first through the haze and mist of sleep he saw only a blur of blue. When his eyes finally focused he jumped backward and gave a startled yelp.  
  
Frodo sat up his bright eyes peering into Sam's. This did not daunt the curious hobbit, however and he just leaned closer as if the longer and closer he looked he might find something he missed. Sam inched backwards, "Mr. Frodo, what are you looking for?"  
  
Frodo crawled closer his keen eyes darting across Sam's features curiously. His face portrayed a stern confusion as he put his fingers in Sam's mouth and pulled up his lips.  
  
"Wha awe oo oin'?" Sam spit out Frodo's fingers and put his hand to his mouth.  
  
"I think he wants you to smile, Sam," Envin laughed as he set a tray of food on the bed. "Not a bad idea, if you ask me." The healer uncovered a few dishes and the steam leaden with fragrances that made Sam's stomach gurgle wafted into the air. Frodo's nose twitched and he turned hungrily toward the food.  
  
His hands wrapped around a piece of bread and he chewed it thoughtfully. Sam inched forward and looked over the food. "You didn't have to bring so much! I can't eat that even with Mr. Frodo helpin' me."  
  
"It is your last day here, enjoy it," Envin answered solemnly.  
  
"I suppose," Sam mused.  
  
The rest of the morning was finished in quiet peace. Envin and Sam spoke long of sad and comforting things. Sam told Envin all about the Shire; about green fields under a lazy sunrise and sparkling rivers that even Sam could be fond of (at a distance). He spoke long about the gardens of Bag- End and every flower he easily named as if they were children he brought up over many long winters and harsh summers. He spoke of his vegetable patch fondly and the ale at the Green Dragon. He dwindled long in spring days spent with Rosie and the Cotton boys or learning to garden from his Gaffer.  
  
Envin smiled at these stories and sighed wistfully. "If such a place as the Shire exists, Sam, I could have never dreamed of it until now. But now I do hope that I often dream long and well of your home."  
  
"If you ever happen to be in the South Farthing," Sam laughed, "you must drop by Number 3 Bagshot Row if you do not mind slouching it's a might small for Big Folks."  
  
Envin smiled warmly, "Indeed, but let me tell you of Gondor."  
  
Much was said of both of their homes and it was evident that both desired to return to them. But of sad things they spoke of as well. They thought of times not long ago when Frodo was as still as a reflection in a pond. Sam rubbed the back of his hand to his eyes. "Elrond saved my master once before, this time I reckon he was too deeply injured to find."  
  
"I've been meaning to ask you, Sam, how did Frodo get this?" Envin pointed to the stitches in the back of Frodo's head. Frodo turned quickly and looked from Envin to Sam wondering just what they were talking about. He leaned forward on his elbows pretending to understand what the words meant. Every time someone turned to him he'd perk up and smile and Sam returned it weakly to make his master content.  
  
"Sam, what happened in Mordor?" Envin asked again.  
  
Sam sighed, "I was afraid to ever say much about it but seein' is how he don't understand." Sam's eyes filled with tears and he bowed his head afraid to look at Envin and see what judgment he would make. With a short shaky breath, Sam began.  
  
~~~  
  
"Sam," Frodo whispered and the younger hobbit turned his tear filled eyes to his master.  
  
"Yes sir?"  
  
"Take Sting out of my belt."  
  
"Sir?"  
  
"Just please Sam. Do it. Give me Sting."  
  
Sam obeyed not sure why. He held out Sting and wondered at its elvish beauty. Slowly he turned it to his master and Frodo grasped it violently and desperately. Sam recoiled.  
  
"Mr. Frodo?"  
  
Frodo held the hilt against his breast tightly and trembled. He sucked in a gasp of breath and turned his tear streaked face to Sam. "Walk away, Sam."  
  
"Mr. Frodo! No!"  
  
"Just listen to me Sam!" Frodo screamed his voice harsh and cruel. "Walk away! Turn and run!"  
  
"No, Mr. Frodo I won't leave you!"  
  
"You won't have to then!"  
  
Frodo looked up at the sky once more. His voice lowered into a whisper. "I have to do this." He closed his eyes and let the tears roll down his cheeks. When he opened them again they seemed to be filled with a bitter resolve as he stared at the dark sky. "I just wish I could see the stars.. One last time."  
  
He turned again to Sam. "You see Sam I have to do this. I have honour, Sam, and I do not wish to turn into a monster again! No not again! I won't let him win! And I won't let the Ring win! Promise me Sam! When it's over you'll take the Ring and destroy it! Promise me you'll move on!"  
  
"Don't do this Frodo!" Sam wailed. "Don't do this!"  
  
"I'm sorry Sam. Please. Don't cry for me. I died long ago."  
  
~~~  
  
"I was afraid for him, I knew what he wanted to do, so I- I took it. I screamed and snatched it clean out of his hands. He didn't want me to, he was angry and he struck me. I don't blame him for it at all! Don't get me wrong he was just- the Ring- it was the Ring." Sam shook his head fiercely. "No please!" he put his hands to his ears and clenched his eyes tight. "Don't make me go back there! Don't make me go!"  
  
Envin grabbed Sam's arms tightly and held him close, "Shh, Sam! What happened! Tell me!"  
  
"He- he FELL! I pulled too hard I made him fall! He hit his head."  
  
"Shh, it wasn't your fault. You saved him from himself, Sam."  
  
Sam looked up, his eyes wide with fright and with a wild light to them that Envin did not quite like the look of. "When I was carrying him, he kicked me. He didn't mean to he was dreamin' but he fell again. If only I could have held him tighter! If only I could have kept my footing! And on the mountain!" Sam gasped for air before continuing. "That nasty, wicked creature! That lying snake did him in! He took my master by the neck and threw him! Oh if that filthy thing had not fallen into that fire I would have wrapped my hands around his wretched neck and squeezed the life out of him!"  
  
Before Sam could finish Frodo burst into tears and grasped at Envin full of fear. Envin held the weeping hobbit close. "Sam," he said softly. "When I first tended Frodo he was completely still as if his spirit fled the body entirely. When Lord Elrond came it was a blessing. He found a small shred of hope, a tiny light inside of Frodo, just a spark but it was there. When Frodo returned to us he was lost, frightened, confused. You helped with that, Sam, you showed him protection and trust. Don't you see he loves you and he looks to you for understanding? Emarin's kitten showed him that not all things are threatening. A flower showed him death, a knife showed him evil. He is learning, Sam. Don't you see? There is hope. Of all the things that were against him; the Ring, Gollum, Mordor, thirst and hunger. You stuck by him. I have once heard of a saying 'Where there is life, there is hope' but I no longer believe it. I think it is better stated; 'Where there is Samwise there is hope'."  
  
Frodo stopped weeping and pulled his head from Envin's robes. He rubbed his nose and sniffled. Sam smiled at him and reached out to him. Frodo fell into his arms as if it were all he had ever truly needed. Sam smiled and stroked his hair, "We'll get you back, Mr. Frodo, as long as I'm Samwise Gamgee. You ain't dead yet, and you'll keep on livin' if I got any say in it."  
  
Frodo's eyes saddened. He heard something he knew and he did not like the sound of it. Slowly he reached into his pocket and pulled out some crumbled item that was now undistinguishable. Sam looked at it curiously. A tiny black thing, withered and drooping as if it had born such a heavy burden that it broke its back..  
  
"Oh," said Sam, "you kept it?"  
  
Sam looked from the flower to Frodo whose eyes filled with tears. He pocketed the dead bud and stared confused and frightened at Sam. "Dead..." he murmured almost inaudibly.  
  
There was a loud clatter as Envin dropped the empty dishes and Sam stared gaping at Frodo who had bowed his head and fallen back into Sam's arms as if he hadn't said a word.  
  
"Master Samwise, sir?" Emáten peeked into the tent. "We are getting ready to depart." 


	23. What Was

A/N: I'm sorry for yet another long wait but it is not because I've been idle but this chapter was in its production phase for a long while. It took me a while to work it out quite right and another while to write it all down. Usually I have the opportunity to sit down and finish a chapter a day. For this chapter it was not the case so once again apologies but I hope the little flashback in this makes up for it ^^  
  
~~~  
  
At last the day of departure came, and a great and fair company made ready to ride north from the City. --- Return of the King, Many Partings.  
  
~~~  
  
A fair company was gathered and made ready as a great eored of knights rode up, accompanying Eomer, now king of Rohan. The elves of Lorien and Rivendell sat upon their pure white steeds in all of their splendour. Upon a great wain was brought a golden bier which held the body of Theoden, king of Rohan. King Elessar was already on his horse and to his left rode his wife, fair as a summer's eve, and to his right rode Gandalf upon his old companion Shadowfax. Pippin rode with the knights of Gondor and Merry, being Theoden's esquire, sat upon the wain holding aloft the arms of the king. Legolas and Gimli rode together upon Arod and hailed Emáten as he came forward with Sam and Frodo at his sides.  
  
Legolas dismounted, helping Gimli, and came forward to greet Samwise. "Steeds have been furnished according to your stature, my hobbit friend, come and I shall assist you." Sam nodded and grabbed Frodo's hand as he was led towards their small ponies.  
  
"Oh dear," said Sam, gripping Frodo's hand. "I don't think he can ride alone."  
  
"Ah but Aragorn has brought forth his mildest of beasts for you master, Samwise. Come and we shall meet him. Then you may decide if he is fit for your master." Legolas patted one of the cream colored ponies and stroked his soft mane. "I call him Nostale for in my tongue it means kind. I do not know of his true name for the master was all too obliging to give his best pony for use of the Ringbearer, and was too honoured to sputter a word, never mind give his name."  
  
Sam laughed, "Well let's see here." He went round to the pony's head and patted his nose gently. "There, there lad." Sam smiled and knickered gently to the pony, Legolas laughed.  
  
"Do you speak their language, dear Sam? I would love a lesson if you have the time."  
  
Sam blushed, "I-it just calms 'em a mite."  
  
The pony was all too content with hearing his language and licked Sam's hair. Sam laughed as his curls stood on end and he tried to smooth them out. "Come here, Mr. Frodo, he might like to meet you."  
  
Frodo shuffled forward and stared at the pony with awe. He rose a hand tentatively and let it hover over the Nostale's nose, not sure if he should pet him. The pony didn't care for waiting, he nuzzled gently against Frodo's hand and licked it. Frodo's eyes brightened and his smile broadened as he stroked Nostale's nose.  
  
"Here," Legolas bent down and put an apple in Frodo's hand. Frodo stared from the apple to Legolas, then back at the apple. The elf wrapped Frodo's small fingers about it and he pointed to the pony. "Feed him." Frodo now looked from the pony to Legolas, even more confused. Legolas kept his features impassive even though his heart wept. He wrapped his hands around Frodo's warmly and held his arms out. The hobbit allowed his hands to be brought to the pony's nose. When Legolas uncovered his hands it revealed the apple in Frodo's grasp. Nostale licked it and nuzzled Frodo's hands as if telling him to let it go. Frodo drew one hand back and the pony snatched the apple in tentative teeth. He bit down contentedly and gave a knicker of joy. Frodo laughed aloud and tugged at Legolas for another apple.  
  
The elf smiled and handed it to the eager hobbit who readily fed Nostale. Sam just stood back and nodded sadly. "Yes, very well, they seem to be getting along. But I don't reckon Frodo knows how to ride by any miracle in my book." At this point Sam ran the back of his hand along his eyes. "Will Nostale know what to do?"  
  
Legolas nodded solemnly. "Indeed, and his bridle will be tied to your pony so he will follow obediently."  
  
~~~  
  
The day began to wane and finally the company made leave. Sam found himself alone with Frodo as they sat readily on their ponies. Sam bent down and made sure the knot he secured to his pony's bridle was tight enough to hold Nostale close. Frodo shifted uncomfortably and looked down fearfully.  
  
"Don't worry none, Mr. Frodo," said Sam, putting a hand on Frodo's shoulder. "Just hold tight to Nostale and we'll take it nice and slow like."  
  
Frodo's bright eyes bore into Sam even when he stopped speaking and the gardener began to feel uncomfortable. "What is it?" he shifted uneasily under that hallow stare.  
  
Frodo's eyes softened a bit and he smiled slightly, then reached out his arms but found he could not reach Sam from his position. He frowned and then tried to steady himself, frightened of the height. Sam helped steady him then tried to think of what Frodo was reaching for. The thought suddenly occurred to him and he smiled as broadly as he could.  
  
The simple hobbit seemed content with this and nodded. Yes that was what he wanted. It was then that Emáten rode near and stopped his horse next to the ponies. "Lord Samwise, my brother has given me strict orders not to let a scratch become of you."  
  
"Aye, and I won't mind having someone to talk to none," Sam smiled.  
  
"Have you everything you need?"  
  
Sam reached over and took the little brown bag hanging from the pony's saddle. A few garments, nothing much, the phial Galadriel had given Frodo, his little grey box the Lady had given him, and a little brown one, in which bore the white stone. Sam put a hand to his neck absently and let it fall. "Alls here," he said, closing the bag. And with a upraised hail from silver trumpets the great company set out to bring King Theoden to his final resting place. But Samwise's thoughts were elsewhere...  
  
~~~  
  
"Listen here, Sam-lad, I won't be wantin' no daydreamin' from ye t'day. You hear me lad?"  
  
The wee thing nodded eagerly, "Yes Pa. No daydreamin'."  
  
"You know what we need, right son?"  
  
Sam cocked his head and looked up to the sky, "Some tater seeds and a new uprootin' tool for the daisies?"  
  
Hamfast slapped a hand to is head and gave an exhasperated sigh that sounded more like a grunt to the child. "Tater- tater seeds!? Where's your head lad? Ain't no such thing as tater seeds you ninnyhammer! And why in the name of the Shire would I want to uproot daisies?!"  
  
"For the stew?" Sam grinned at his joke but his Gaffer was in no way amused.  
  
"You got cotton in your ears lad? I said daisy seeds and a new *trowel* to uproot the taters. It's a trowel, lad, not an 'uprootin' tool'. Where's that head o' yours? Off dreamin' bout elves and trolls I gander. Ain't for the likes of us, I tells ye. Now up and get to the market before I box those deaf ears."  
  
"Yes Pa." Sam looked down at his feet, blushing at his foolishness. Yes, he had been thinking about elves and trolls. But he couldn't help it! Master Baggins had told him the most ear bending tale the other day! How was he supposed to not think of it?  
  
The lad stuffed the small copper coins in his pockets and trudged down the path. "Don't think a' no elves, Sam Gamgee. That's easy enough. I'll stop thinkin' of em now. Wait! No! I thought of 'em then. Alright. Starting now!" Sam looked up obviously confused. "How can I not think of somethin' anyway! Wouldn't I just be thinkin' of not thinkin' of 'em? Alright, maybe I can think a' somethin' else. How 'bout... taters! Right I'll think a' the garden at Bag-End. I got a whole lot of chores back up there ta do."  
  
Sam looked down at his feet, "Maybe if he ain't too busy, Mr. Frodo will keep me some company." He blushed. "Now, Sam Gamgee, he's much to busy for the likes a' you. He's got all them fancy books and things in his room he's always readin'. Not that I spy on him or none! But I wish I could read least one a' them books." He twiddled his fingers nervously. "Oh but I've tried. Really hard I try. I seen one a' them books sittin' all alone on the shelf. And no one was readin' it or none. I swears I put it right back, I did. But I did take a rest, just a moment mind ye, and I opened that old book, nice and gentle-like, really old it was, so I showed it all the respect it'd be deservin'. But it seemed the more I stared at them lines and letters the more jumbled and mixed up they got for me. Made me dizzy." Sam wiped away a few tears. "Just wish I could," the little lad whimpered.  
  
Sam stopped and rubbed two, tiny fists to his watery eyes. He looked up and saw a sign with two arrows. One pointed straight in front of him and said MARKET in clear bold letters, the second arrow pointed to his left and said MILL in the same letters. "Oh dear," said the lad who only saw a bunch of jumbled letters. "Pa always took us to the market on the wagon. Tain't never seen the sign afore." The twiddled his fingers again and rubbed his feet together. "Now, don't worry none, Sam Gamgee, someone'll come along. Just sit here and wait a tick."  
  
He fell down with a sigh and put his head in his hands, his chubby little cheeks cupped in his tiny palms. "Oh," he fretted wringing the end of his shirt. "Pa will be awful sore when I get back, late and all." He wiped a few tears from his eyes. "Wish I could read."  
  
"What's this! Sam Gamgee can't read, can he!?" There came a gaggle of laughter as none other than Ted Sandyman and Lotho Sackville-Baggins came striding up. "Aye, Lotho, maybe we can assist him," snarled Ted.  
  
Lotho smirked, "Can't read? What's wrong with him, is he simple or something." The lank haired hobbit bent to Sam's level and stared at him coldly. "Sure looks simple."  
  
"Course he is!" Ted grabbed Sam by the hair and dragged him to his feet. "See look, he don't understand a word we're saying, does he?" Sam whimpered as two fat tears rolled down his cheeks and he was forced to look directly at the sun.  
  
"I ain't- I ain't-" he sobbed and tried to shake his head as best he could while his hair was still in Ted's cruel claws.  
  
"Look he can talk, I didn't think simpletons could talk," said Lotho, unknowingly portraying his utter stupidity.  
  
Ted snarled as Sam seemingly contradicted what he had just said. "Course he's a simpleton." He let go and let Sam fall to the ground and get a faceful of sand. He coughed meekly and tried to get to his feet. "Stay below us, simpleton!" commanded Ted.  
  
Sam ignored them and got to his feet but he stared down at the road and sniffled. "Just don't show 'em you are crying," he thought. His face was red up to the tips of his ears and tears were completely blinding him. The small splatters on the ground at his feet were betraying him. That and the fact that his shoulders were hitching with sobs. Oh why wouldn't they go away! Why did they always pick on him! He always tried to be nice and obliging like Mr. Frodo told him to. Oh, he wished Mr. Frodo was there now. To pat him on the back, to tell him that he wasn't stupid, that they were just being mean. Was he really simple? He felt that way. Simple and worthless.  
  
"My dad says that there ain't no Gamgee been a scholar. Says they can't even make up for what they doesn't got in perspicacity for what theys try to call decent scruples. Workin' for them queer Bagginses don't show no scruples, if you ask me," Ted crowed.  
  
A sob betrayed Sam and made the two villains laugh all the harder. A small, flawless, gold coin landed at Sam's feet and he dared to look up for a moment. There hanging upside-down in the tree was Frodo Baggins, looking not at all pleased. Ted and Lotho stopped their laughter to look up at the infuriated hobbit.  
  
"Looks, to me, Mr. Sandyman, that you need to attain an independent thought of your own, if you ask me. I'm correct when I guess that you don't even know what perspicacity or scruples mean." Frodo raised an eyebrow which made him look all the more comical as he hung there upside-down. "Now I am betting that pretty gold coin that Sam here has more wits about him than the two of you put together." He swung back up into the foliage and for a while leaves shook and some floated to the ground before they were followed by a blur as Frodo landed neatly on his feet. He brushed off his waistcoat and breeches and stood straight and proud. "First off, I'd like to state, plainly and sincerely, that the two of you throw around the word 'simple' quite often, without a thought or care about what that kind of person would have to go through. But I assure you, gentlemen, if I may use the word so obscurely, that I would rather befriend a 'simpleton' as you call him, than two foul-mouthed little truants. But I assure you, that Sam here, is no simpleton. He has the same brain capacity as I, he just has not tapped into it yet. I thank you, though, for I haven't realized how smart this little lad is."  
  
Sam looked up at him, his eyes shining with disbelief. "Yes Sam," Frodo smiled at the lad. "You are very sharp. I didn't doubt you had it in you, but you stood right here and took all those wicked things they were saying and proved it anyway. That's a great show of character, Sam! Be proud of yourself." Frodo lifted the child and dusted him off. "Oh but they got a bit physical with you didn't they? Probably because they think you are smaller and weaker than them. Well I'm not." Frodo turned his head to them and smiled. "Would you like to have a go with me, gentlemen. You may strike first if you wish."  
  
Ted scowled and bore his fists. "I'll have at you, Baggins!"  
  
Frodo's eyes darkened. "If you insist on continuing this utter stupidity." Frodo set Sam on the ground and approached the two hobbits, Ted about his height and Lotho towering over him. "I'm no match for two, but I'm willing to defend my friend's honour. Sam's most definitely worth it. And I would not mind sending you two truants home by the scruff of your necks, but alas it seems I have something better to do. Never you mind you can have at whomever you would like."  
  
"You're pretty sure of yourself, Baggins," growled Lotho.  
  
"Oh this really isn't fair," said Frodo in mock fright. He put his hands on his hips and looked up to the sky letting out a shrill, keen whistle. Two more hobbits swung down from the tree. "Fatty, Merry, this is Lotho and Ted, I'm sure you've seen them around."  
  
The two hobbits smiled slyly, "Why yes, cousin," said Merry. "I never forget a... face." Fatty rolled up his sleeves and smiled from ear to ear.  
  
"Now this is what I call fair," said Frodo. "I hope you don't mind I'll have to leave but it seems my friend Sam here has some market business to attend to. You will be alright?"  
  
Merry and Fatty nodded, "We'll play fair!" shouted Merry as Frodo took Sam by the hand.  
  
"Now," said Frodo, "This," he pointed to the arrow pointing straight. "This says MARKET, it'll lead you in the correct direction. Come and while we are purchasing what you need we can talk about reading lessons in your future, aye lad?" Sam's wide, brown eyes just gazed at Frodo in sheer reverence and gratitude.  
  
~~~  
  
The memory shattered as Sam was aware of someone tugging at his sleeve. He looked up and saw Frodo staring at him confusedly. The simple hobbit blinked a few times and whimpered putting a hand to his stomach. Sam looked down and then back up to the distraught hobbit. "You hungry?" Frodo's ears perked up at the sound of Sam's voice but he just shook his head and pressed his forehead on Sam's shoulder, whimpering softly. 


	24. Prophesies

A/N: Ah... ::sighs:: I do so miss writing Frodo... after all the hobbit I am writing is just a solemn, confused child... not the Frodo we know and love ::sigh:: GREAT! I'm such a sadist I torture myself!  
  
::random hobbits point and laugh while Sam tosses an apple at me:: "Ha how do you like it!"  
  
::walks away with hands in pockets and head bowed::  
  
~~~  
  
Chapter 23 --- Prophesies  
  
The thick mist gave way to a pool of stars rippling as if a stone had bee dropped into it. Then, as it was sudden, it seemed that a shower of pebbles were falling into it and the stars became blurred and the blackness receded. There was a cry, echoing in the depths of his ears, "Mr. Frodo!" and there came cries, cheers and hysteria by many high and frightened voices. A loud snap filled all the sound and it died and by great knowledge and experience with such matters he knew that it was bone. The blackness sped away and a blurred image came into his head. He stepped forward and he saw about him many hobbits holding pitchforks and torches and their eyes were filled with fear and concern. He stepped forward again and saw that they were all staring at a small point that was so very clear in his mind. He even walked past the sturdy gardener who he knew so very well, still as stone as if frozen with fear. Light shone at his feet but the image became blurred and cast far away into memory. A dark shadow loomed over him and he feared for the little gardener. A tall man, full of malice and strength and looking rather pleased with himself stood just as still, his eyes shining with venom.  
  
He turned again and saw the point with painful clarity. A pile of broken wood and thick clouds of dust were settling all round. There was a stinging silence that made every shifting board of wood bang clearly and loudly in his head. It shifted loudly supporting some slight weight... the weight that shattered the structure it had once been. Two other hobbits were kneeling down and they moved as if through water, as if the shock had made their limbs so very heavy and tears ran unchecked down their faces, otherwise frozen in shock. One he knew too well. Small and chipper Peregrin Took kneeled and touched a broken beam of wood and above his hand rested a limp and furry foot, pertruding from the mass of sharp, broken wood. He noted the round drops of blood sluggishly running down the limp foot, supported by the beam. He stepped forward and clearly saw a small, fair hand, pale and limp as the foot, scratched and bleeding.  
  
He didn't want to know. He didn't want to look. He didn't have to look. He knew, very well, who this poor soul was. But he reached out and a voice came to his head, "Do not touch the water!" He pulled away as if stung and the water swirled before him and the blackness followed and the stars glittered as the images faded back into the thickness of the mist.  
  
"Frodo!" Envin sat up in bed panting heavily. At the moment his eyes adjusted his sister came running in and jumped on the bed.  
  
"Envin! Envin!" she was carrying Rosie, clutching the kitten protectively. "They've gone!" she cried. "And they forgot to say goodbye to Rosie!" The little girl wept.  
  
"Oh there there dear," he held her close and rocked her gently.  
  
"Do you think we'll ever see them again?" she whimpered, stroking her kitten.  
  
Envin sighed and stared at the stars out his window, "I do hope so." He kissed her head and rocked her again and whispered to the stars, "I wish I was as sure as you are, Queen Evenstar, your visions do little for my hope."  
  
~~~  
  
Sam too had awakened that night hearing fretful cries in his dreams. They echoed in his memory as he regained focus but they did not stop. Quickly he knew his master was in trouble. He clamored, clumsily, to his feet and made ready to run to his master's side when he remembered that they had been right next to each other. He bent again and snatched the flailing hands. Frodo tossed his head in the midst of a nightmare and cried out murmuring incoherently.  
  
"Calm not, Mr. Frodo, be calm. Ain't no one gonna hurt you here."  
  
At hearing the voice Frodo slowed, still whimpering and he curled close to the warmth Sam offered. He clutched at Sam desperately as if he were slipping out of reach. Frodo screwed his eyes shut and whimpered as if in pain. He clutched at Sam's hands and collar, trying to keep hold, trying desperately not to get lost. But in the end he let go and turned swiftly huddling into a ball and hitching with sobs. Sam saw his crown of curls rising and falling as he sobbed and held his knees, sniffling and weeping.  
  
"Oh please don't cry," Sam put a hand to his shoulder. "I promise you are safe. You are safe. There ain't no dark things out to get you no more."  
  
Frodo didn't care for the words made no sense. He shook his head and murmured, rocking back and forth, it was all a maddening jumble to him. It just didn't add up! And there *were* dark things, lurking in the dark holes that were torn away from his spirit, away from his mind. And they taunted him and laughed and beat him endlessly *endlessly*! Why couldn't his protector do away with those! Why couldn't his protector make him understand? It was all so confusing. It was all so frightening.  
  
In that moment, as Sam stared helplessly at his master, shaking his head and rocking in a monotonous motion. He watched in horror and knew this was no longer that brazen and cheeky tween that flew out of trees to his rescue and dried his tears. This was no longer the kind master that taught him to read and brought him cool juice while he gardened on the hot summer days. Sam had to live with this. His master was dead. The hobbit he knew had left him so long ago and he had only memories. Only memories that sent pain and joy through him all at once. "I might as well wrap 'em up in a box and bury 'em in the earth and put up a little stone and there my master would lay. Dead and in his grave." And in his weeping Sam grabbed Frodo from his dazed rocking and held him so close that his bright eyes stared fearfully into Sam's. They didn't stay like that for long, for Frodo quickly looked away as a weak animal would submit to his dominant master. Sam wept in his heart and held him close like he would a son. He stroked his curls gently and Frodo sighed, easing into the protection he so desperately needed. Sam leaned over Frodo until he was lulled back into a shadowy sleep and then he tucked him back away and watched him a while longer. His pale face seemingly dead in the glow of moonlight.  
  
And there lay the body of Frodo Baggins no longer inhabited by the vibrant spirit that once brought light and love into the lives of so many.  
  
...but did that necessarily mean he was dead and gone forever?  
  
~~~  
  
A/N: Short, prophetic, and terrifying... so whaddya think.. sorry for the shortness but I'm hoping to post more often now to compensate for that... ::holds out little tin cup:: reviews? 


	25. Cherished

Chapter 24 --- Cherished  
  
The company was nearly a week away from their journey's end and Theoden King's final resting place, when Frodo developed a terrible fear of his pony. He would clutch the reins with tiny, white fists, and tremble horribly. No kind touch or soft voice could reach him. At some times he would stare down at the road below and cry out, struggling to escape whatever nightmare tortured his waking mind. He did not seem to be aware at all of Sam or any familiar face or touch. He clutched at Sam and trembled. The fear Sam saw in his eyes made the gardener weep. "Please, Mr. Frodo, tell me what's wrong." But of course there was not response. The simple hobbit lifted his head to look at Sam and then bit his trembling lip. He looked about him wildly as if something dangerous were near him. Sam could feel him tremble as he panted. "Mr. Frodo, naught's gonna hurt you."  
  
Frodo clenched his eyes shut and a small sob escaped him. "No!" was a searing cry in his mind. "No! Please!" Frodo felt his stomach lurch every time the pony beneath him moved. "I'll fall! I'll fall! Into the fire!" His wild eyes turned downward and saw, rising from the ground, rivers of acid and flame bubbling up to meet him. He clenched Sam tight, his fists trembling.  
  
"Lost!" came a cackling laugh in his head. "And never to be found. Is what shall become of you, Frodo Baggins, if you destroy me." Frodo clenched his eyes shut. Who was Frodo Baggins? What did he destroy? The simple hobbit felt the heat of the fire on his cheeks. He gasped and began to choke on the foul air that seemed to surround him. If this was what happens to him when this Frodo Baggins destroys something, he wished that it never happened, that whatever this was was not destroyed. Distantly he heard sounds, voices, but he could not understand the words.  
  
"What's wrong with him? Why can't he breathe?" cried Sam.  
  
Emáten lifted the gasping hobbit of his pony and set him on the ground. Frodo suddenly cried out. "My lord, I know not."  
  
"No! Not the fire!" But when he touched the ground he felt it did not hurt him and he leapt up. His eyes searched around frantically but there was a shadow before them an dhe fell again to his knees.  
  
Merry and Pippin rushed to their cousin's side. "What's wrong?" asked Merry, kneeling before his cousin. He wrapped his arms around Frodo and rested his head on his shoulder. Frodo shuddered with sobs.  
  
Pippin was watching with horror. "Frodo," he muttered. "You should not be this way." But the young Took was unheeded. Frodo was calming now that he was off the pony. He lifted his head and looked around blearily, seeking Sam. Merry reluctantly relinquished Frodo to the gardener and Pippin could feel Merry's hurt.  
  
Frodo leaned into Sam's grip and bit at his fingernails, his eyes darting about wildly. Emáten watched nervously. "Sir, please, if you will. It is time to be going."  
  
"Emáten," sighed Sam. "We cannot go anywhere if Mr. Frodo is in these states."  
  
"Do you wish for me to inform the king..."  
  
"No." Sam stood Frodo up. The simple hobbit swayed and looked about, confused and very tired. "He'll ride with me, I reckon. We can't just sit round here and there's no way we'd make it back to the Shire on foot."  
  
"Come on, Pip," said Merry. He grasped Pippin by the elbow and began to lead him away.  
  
"No!" cried Pippin. "He shouldn't be this way!" He ran towards Frodo and grasped his shoulders. "Stop this, Frodo! You know me!" Tears formed in the young Took's eyes as he saw Frodo tremble before him in fear. "You know me," he ground out between his clenched teeth.  
  
"I know you, Mr. Pippin," said Sam angrily. "And you are not giving him reason to trust you."  
  
Pippin released Frodo and turned away. "He's my cousin, Sam. You can't understand."  
  
Sam narrowed his eyes. "Perhaps not." His voice was shaking as if it took a great effort for the gardener to keep it even. "But I saw what happened to him out there." Sam saw Pippin's shoulders shudder and he went very still.  
  
"That," hissed Pippin, "hurt's most of all."  
  
"What?"  
  
Merry cast a glance at Sam. "Sam no," he whispered but he could not stop this. He could hide his own pain, but not Pippin's, and not Sam's, and not Frodo's.  
  
Pippin sneered at Sam. "I didn't see him. I wasn't there beside him when he was slipping away. I couldn't cherish ever last moment I had with him. Last I saw my cousin he was walking away from camp, to think about what he should do with the Ring. That was the last I saw of him, and if I knew it then I would have followed him! I would have stuck to his side whether he wanted it or not. You think you are the only one that wanted to follow Frodo, Samwise?"  
  
Sam took a step back. "Does that mean you should hurt Frodo now?" All four now looked to Frodo who in turn looked back at all them and trembled.  
  
"What do they want of me?" came a voice in Frodo's head. "I- I don't understand-" He felt himself stumbling through a thick mist. He reached out and grasped nothing and stumbled along the way. He stood back up and looked back, then all around. There was a veil before him.  
  
Merry placed a hand on Pippin's shoulder. "Come on, Pip. We have to go."  
  
Pippin shuddered and then turned away. Sam watched them go and took a breath before he turned back to Frodo. "Emáten can you help him up on my pony?"  
  
The man swallowed hard. He felt very out of place. "Yes, my lord." He placed Frodo gently on the pony and felt all the muscles in the small hobbit's body constrict. "Better get here soon, sir."  
  
Sam scrambled up behind Frodo and wrapped his arms around him to steady him. Frodo breathed, slightly relieved. Emáten mounted his own horse and the company started to move.  
  
~~~  
  
Envin sat upon the crest of a hill near his home. The mornings light was shining like pale gold as it rose over the peaks in the distance. Envin rubbed his red eyes. Sleep was not very restful lately and he was forced to give himself a bit of a sedative to get to sleep. As a healer he needed to be rested most of all. But his mind was always troubled and dark thoughts did not leave him. He wondered what his queen had meant for him. But most of all he wondered about the Ringbearers.  
  
The healer grasped a parchment in his hand and began to write unsteadily. He wrote mostly notes he took about his patients and how they responded to his treatments. He had pages upon pages about Frodo. His initial state seemed hopeless and very frightening. He reminded himself that without the elflord Elrond he would not have gotten so far with Frodo.  
  
He scribbled down a few things Frodo recognized in the real world. He knew about the passing of life and was grieved by it. He also held no wishes to take life and cherished it.  
  
Envin stopped to wonder. Was this because of Frodo's horrifying journey? Possibly. He wished he knew what Frodo thought of, if indeed he had any clear thoughts at all. It was most likely that is closest thoughts and memories were of Mordor. Then Envin shuddered. Perhaps his only thoughts and memories were of Mordor.  
  
The healer began to write about the first time he had used the thin knife on Sam. Frodo's reaction to that was most important. Watching Sam collapse and be perfectly still made Frodo overwrought with fright. Above anything Frodo recognized Sam as someone he cared for. And by making connections with stillness, blades, blood, and death this brought Frodo closer to reality.  
  
But it was Sam. Sam was Frodo's true link to the real world. Envin suddenly threw the papers to the ground and cried out in anger and frustration. What did it matter now? They were gone. Frodo was trapped and there was nothing that could bring him back. And now his future was grim.  
  
Envin tried to escape the visions but they were stronger than ever and they pierced him like cold steel. "Is it death then? Is Frodo's only escape death? What's the answer!?"  
  
Envin kicked his papers and threw himself down. "I do not care to see what the future holds! I wish to make it myself! How do I change this fate?"  
  
Envin's gaze was caught by the setting sun. He must stop this. But how? He ran back to his home and smiled grimly to himself. "So this is what she meant this vision for. To show me what would be if I did not stop it. Well I'm going. I will find them and stop this."  
  
~~~  
  
A/N: ::leaps on reviewers:: I'm back! And I know I promised that I wouldn't post until I finished but... I couldn't wait. Today proved to be one of the few days I had a bad mood and writing was the only way to cure it. I do have a few chapters written so it's now up to you reviewers to keep me focused so I finish it. Up to the challenge? I hope so. I have big plans for our little hobbits. I know this chapter was pretty short but the other chapters are much better written and just waiting to be read. I'll update in a week. Remember constructive reviews keep my incentive to write ;) 


	26. Barricade

Chapter 25 --- Paradox  
  
Sam patted Frodo's back gently trying to calm the gasping sounds of his breath. There was a solemn quiet among the company and only Frodo's frantic breaths could be heard as a golden bier passed. All bowed their heads in silent mourning. It was the last passing of Theoden King and his countrymen wept and left tears in his wake as the bier was borne through the countryside. The knights of the Rohirrim accompanied the bier to the Hallows and came to the tombs of Rath Dinen. The City was weighed with silence and the grey sky hung heavy with rain as the air stirred soft sounds of mourning.  
  
The golden bier was placed upon a wain, surrounded by Théoden's loyal kin and the Riders of Rohan. Théoden's esquire rode upon the wain bearing the king's arms, weeping silently. Sam watched Merry with a quiet awe. He had never seen the hobbit so grief stricken nor with such a look of purpose. Perhaps only twice had he seen that face set as an immovable stone, his eyes shining like steel.  
  
Meriadoc Brandybuck a handsome young tween, with a solid figure and a regal countenance, gripped the trembling shoulders of a young gardener with a sort of stern kindness that demanded attention and offered pity. Pity for what he was about to ask in full knowledge that it would be a burden to weigh heavily upon the gardener. But his face was set and his purpose was clear and it was the solid steady way he said it that made Samwise admire the boldness in the young Brandybuck... "I am afraid, Samwise, that he will go off into The Blue like old Bilbo. And there are dangers there that await him and danger that he bears with him and a shadow lurks in my mind that warns me that he will go alone... You must do this for me, Sam, watch him..."  
  
Then again at Crickhollow when Frodo thought that he'd slip away, alone and unnoticed. As Frodo thought that he would have to look upon them for the last time and then go off alone into darkness. There was that look, the steeling of Merry's eyes that made the brazen and cheeky lad that he was sweep away like dust that lay atop some secret strength. Those eyes bore into Frodo with the same sense of purpose and pity that spoke of everything he knew and of the hurt that he had endured at the knowledge that Frodo thought he would have to go alone.  
  
But now the stone seemed worn by harsh weather; beaten by an endless sleet and icy torrent. What amazed Sam is that the statue still stood. Merry, worn away by a passing of a year that beat upon his bold structure without mercy, held his lord's arms with great reverence and care. Sam saw the change in Merry and it baffled him. Beyond the grief and aged wisdom was a bold heart and a solemn, purposeful hobbit that Sam had known. The same brash hobbit that lead their conspiracy. The same hobbit that followed his cousin to an unknown end. This was the end.  
  
A gentle dirge reached Sam's ears and it brought his heart to weeping and he clutched Frodo to him as he would a son and Frodo seemed less confused as the song touched his ears.  
  
Out of doubt, out of dark, to the day's rising he rode singing in the sun, sword unsheathing. Hope he rekindled, and in hope ended; over death, over dread, over doom lifted out of loss, out of life, unto long glory.  
  
Sam felt Frodo shake in small hitches. He leaned over the pony they sat upon and saw the innocent face of his master, eyes held tightly shut, sobbing quietly. "Frodo," Sam felt his voice from far away and the mournful eyes opened to look at him, tears streaming forth. "Why do you cry?" Sam felt uselessness in his question and yet his heart fluttered, anticipating a response. His mind knew it was futile but that small fool's hope he could not let go of persisted. Frodo lifted a timid hand and placed it on Sam's wet cheek then his own and Sam saw that he did understand.  
  
Frodo's distant eyes looked up at the figure in the white shroud as he was placed in his barrow. "Dead" was Frodo's soft murmur and Sam felt something he could not name. It sunk in him, cold and chill, like ice water and yet there was a warmth to it, in the depths of his heart, something golden and bright.  
  
Sam ran a hand through Frodo's curls, he smiled affectionately, "Aye, sir. Let's be gettin on to the feast."  
  
There was something wrong that Sam could not place. He looked at Frodo now and turned away shamefully. He knew what he was seeing. He was looking at his master like a child. He could not recall what his master had been like, he couldn't treat him that way any more. And it felt so wrong and evil. Sam felt like he had betrayed his true master. He cringed, biting his lip. His master would have rather died than be treated like this, seen like this. He was stripped of his dignity and he didn't even know it.  
  
Something about that thought sent a shiver through Sam and chilled him in a way that did not allow him to warm himself for a long time afterward.  
  
When the pony stopped by the stables Frodo threw himself off and gasped for breath as he always did, thankful to be off of the beast. He sat, huddled on the ground, trembling slightly. Tears filled Sam's eyes.  
  
And yet, he was a child. He thought like a child, he understood what a child understands and nothing more. And to see a child weep for the dead and understand all that is evil and dangerous and nothing good and clean and green, Sam thought it was cruel and chillingly wrong.  
  
He gave the pony his feed and led Frodo to the feast hall. They took slow tentative steps. Frodo was wondering at all the world around him, sometimes quaking in fear and sometimes edging closer to something with a curious, innocent awe. Sam was deep in thought trying to sort his emotions that seemed to gather like a swarm of bees every time he scattered and sorted them.  
  
But this was a child made by pain and fear and death. It was a child placed in the body of one that had been strong and brave and wise. It was a child like those that sit at the edge of dreams and nightmares watching with curious fright. It was not an ordinary child but one that grasped the cause and reality of death with a frightening sureness like it was the only certainty in all the world. Was it because of the knife and the flower... things he had learned so early on about death, pain, and what may cause it if it rests in an ill hand? Or was it the fact that he was created by madness and twisted by a dark lord's ring. A ring created only for destruction and darkness; a ring made not to create but to twist and lie and destroy? Or was it simply because the carelessness of one gardener who let his master fall upon a bed of jagged rocks. throttling his head and damaging all that had made him Frodo Baggins.  
  
Halfway to the feast hall Sam fell to his knees and sobbed.  
  
~~~  
  
Pippin looked down at his half finished plate in dull horror. The day he couldn't finish one serving would be the day the sun didn't rise... never mind.  
  
He leaned back in his chair, brooding quietly. He observed all the people around him with a passive indifference. He did not care any more, for feasts or funerals. He wanted to see the green hills of his Shire again. He wanted to sit by a brook and nap or fish or picnic under a warm sun. He wanted some of Diamond's blue berry pies. He wanted to steal kisses from a blushing lass. He wanted to drink himself under a table at the Green Dragon or dance on the tables of the Ivy Bush. He wanted to race Merry through the countryside until they both fell, panting and exhausted in a bed of flowers. He wanted to lay on the cool grass and watch the stars come out. He wanted to go fishing with his Pa. He wanted to sit in the garden of Bag- End and pretend to listen to Sam's goings-on about flowers and weeds and what not. He wanted to steal farmer Maggot's apples with Fatty. He wanted to feel Shire-rain and Shire-snow and Shire-sun and Shire-earth. He wanted to sit by a fire in Bag-End and smoke a pipe while listening to his cousin Frodo weave a tale about...  
  
Pippin sat bolt upright, his eyes widening as if he had been just stabbed through the back. He looked around to see if any one noticed, then hunched over in despair again. How desperately did he want to hear his cousin Frodo weave a tale about elves and magic and all far away things that he knows cannot possibly happen to him or his loved ones. He wanted all that back. He would never get it back.  
  
Pippin looked up from under his curls, at his cousin eating solemnly, with slow careless movements that suggested he cared nothing about the food set out before him. How Pippin wanted to dash across the table and snatch Merry up in a hug and shake him crying, "Stop it! It never happened! It's all a dream! All this despair cannot exist! We must be happy again! Everything must be how it was before!"  
  
Quickly Pippin bit his lip and gripped his heart as if it would keep it from bursting out of his chest. He felt more lonely at that moment, at that table, surrounded by all those people, than he had when he was trapped under a cave troll wondering if he was dead. His eyes scanned the table again. He hadn't seen Sam and Frodo since the burial. Pippin sighed and leaned forward, cupping his cheek with his palm and tapping his fingers on the table. He did not take much heed to the fact that it was bad manners to keep his elbows on the table, or sit slouched over, or sigh and pout and brood. He was trying so desperately to be the Peregrin Took he had been... before all this happened.  
  
He felt eyes on him and he looked up, abashed to see Merry glaring at him. He blushed knowing he was showing disrespect at Merry's Lord's funeral feast. Then he sighed again. The old Pippin wouldn't have been embarrassed. And the old Merry would not have glared either. The old Merry would have smiled affectionately or pulled a face to make him laugh. Pippin bit his lip again.  
  
After a few more restless moments of shifting and sighing Pippin gathered the courage to get up. He circled the great table laden with a fine feast of fruits and meats and warm baked breads. Pippin did not seem to notice. His eyes scanned the thousands of guests and servants bustling about, keeping watch on a grim Merry as he swirled the wine in his chalice absently.  
  
When Peregrin reached Merry he felt a tight pull of apprehension. Why should he be afraid of this young and solemn knight. Pippin blinked trying to remind himself that this was no knight. And yet... it was.  
  
Suddenly Pippin could not picture the face of the brazen lad he stole fruit with on the face of that distant warrior. They were two different people. Pippin could not stand it. He ran to Merry as if time would run out if he did not get to him soon.. as if the true Merry that he had loved so strongly would drift away forever if he did not reach him now. When he reached Merry's side he reached out a hand. Was this real? The knight of the Rohirrim clad so gallantly in green and silver; bearing the crest of a steed flying swift as the wind upon his breast. The knight mourning for his lord with hand so tightly gripped to a chalice as if the blood red reflection in the liquid would tell him of his own fate. Could this be Meriadoc Brandybuck?  
  
Peregrin let his fingers brush against Merry's shoulder. He saw the reflection in the wine grimace before the hand jerked surprised and let some ripple and spill over the edge. Merry turned to Pippin with a violent, open look that seemed so frightened and vulnerable. The strength of those helpless grey eyes bore into Pippin and he knew it was his Merry.  
  
He wanted to latch onto him and never let go. He wanted to kiss his forehead and tell him that it was just a dream. And for no reason Pippin could name right then.. he didn't.  
  
"Merry, Frodo and Sam haven't come in from putting their pony in the stables." A faint, quivering whisper was all Pippin could say or do as he watched the sorrow in those lost, grey eyes turn to worry.  
  
Merry rose and said in a raspy shred of a voice that had once been the bold, sassy tone of a mischievous Brandybuck, "Let's find em, aye Pip?" He flashed Pippin a sad smile and Pip returned it half-heartedly. The two slipped out unnoticed.  
  
When they reached the doorway leading to the outside of the hall a blur slammed into Pippin and knocked him to the ground. Merry's eyes widened in astonishment and stayed that way when he saw what, precisely, it was.  
  
Pippin looked up at the terrified and confused expression of Frodo and realized his cousin was sitting on top of him, whimpering loudly. "What- Frodo? What happened? Where's Sam?"  
  
Not expecting, nor awaiting an answer Merry grasped each of their wrists and pulled both hobbits to their feet. He held Frodo close to him and the simple hobbit buried his face in Merry's chest. "Come on Pip," he said with a sharp tone of urgency in his rasped voice.  
  
Pippin ran ahead but did not need to run far. He nearly stumbled over Sam in the middle of the road. Merry came bounding up, still clutching Frodo like a mother would do to her helpless babe. "Sam, what's wrong? What happened? Are you hurt?"  
  
"Aye, sir!" cried Sam in despair. "But it ain't no wound you can never heal!"  
  
Merry and Pippin stepped back in a deep motion of understanding that only fellow sufferers could fathom. Frodo clung to Merry but stared down at Sam with a mixture of horror, confusion, and relief. He fell to his knees at Merry's feet and reached out to Sam. He let his hand fall and held it in the dirt to support himself. Sam turned away more ashamed of himself than anything.  
  
"You shouldn't have scared him like that," said Pippin, in a quiet and frightened tone. Sam could not give a response. It was not a statement of anger or resentment. The youngest hobbit understood far too well and, by the tone of his voice, it was not meant for a response.  
  
Frodo pulled his legs up to his chest and rested his cheek on his knees, wrapping his arms around his legs as if clinging to the only warmth he could find. The warmth of his own body and none other. Merry knelt down and smoothed out his curls, brushing a thumb across his cheek and humming softly.  
  
Sam averted his eyes and stared into the fathomless space between his eyes and the ground. Pippin watched him in pity and understanding and nothing more. Sam saw him staring and locked eyes on him for a brief moment, then turned away. "He'- like a child-" Was all Sam could force himself to say.  
  
"Children grow," whispered Merry.  
  
"But there's something wrong with him. A child shouldn't know nothing about death and darkness. That's what makes them children."  
  
"And yet, he does know something, doesn't he Sam?" Pippin smiled coldly. "Whatever he knows might just save him. It might just-" But he couldn't think of what to say or how to finish it and the sentence drifted off leaving words hanging in the space of time between them. And they seemed to drift there like slow curls of smoke mocking as they twirled just out of reach.  
  
Sam bowed his head again. "I don't know."  
  
"Who does?" asked Merry.  
  
"How can death bring one to life! How can one be born by a blade!" cried Sam.  
  
"How can fire from the ashes spring? How can a wayman become a king? How can light from the darkness grow? Do this you know?" Merry whispered, a serene smile upon his noble features.  
  
Sam's wide eyes gazed at the knightly form of Merry, crouching to support his cousin as he wept in the dirt. He saw the sun's light shimmer around the edge of the silver armor and the white horse poised upon a green canvas... ready to fly.  
  
TBC.  
  
~~~  
  
A/N: I cannot quite credit Merry's little poem there all to myself. As you can tell it has aspects from Bilbo's poem about Aragorn. But it is one of my favorite of Tolkien's themes "the paradox". The chapter is also named thus because I was thinking of The Fantastiks (great play rent the movie!) which has one of my favorite poems in it.  
  
There is a curious paradox that no one can explain.  
  
Who understands the secret to the reaping of the grain.  
  
Or why Spring is born from Winter's laboring pain.  
  
Or why we all must die a bit before we grow again.  
  
I do not know the answer I only know it's true.  
  
That is why I hurt them and myself a little bit too.  
  
When I think of it I think of Envin. With his treatment he understood what he was doing for Frodo even though everyone (even you all kind readers) do not. But it will all come together in the end. I promise. All part of the paradox of life.  
  
::deep sigh:: Now I desire to clear a few things up before they even begin to become cloudy. My dearest reviewers as you have hopefully seen my new style of writing is far better than my old, be it the age and wisdom gained in a year or the new person in my life that gave me that wisdom I am far better than what I used to be. So much that after reading all my past chapters of this fanfiction (being my most recent) I was full of shame. But I have no desire to go back and edit and so I suppose this story may seem strange with the two different styles of writing.  
  
I also would like to be perfectly clear with where I stand on the characters. Frodo to be more exact. I see Frodo as the one Tolkien wrote, strong, intelligent, witty, and with a strong will. The true Frodo for me is the proper and wise gentlehobbit seen and met in The Fellowship of the Ring. He is a perfectly level-headed though sometimes cunning and always silver-tongued hobbit aged fifty years, whose I've always seen holding his own and knocking Ted Sandyman on his ear in a barfight. Though of course his appearance in the movie has stayed the same because... well... would you change it? Thought not. ::chuckle:: Just to make the point clear the Frodo you see here is meant to be out of character and completely helpless (one of the worst forms of existence for the strong-willed, world-wise gentlehobbit). I did so because I thought to myself "If I were the Ring I would be so enraged that I would punish Frodo with the worst doom I can contrive for him. Now what would that be?" Long story short I am under no delusions that the true Frodo is a helpless little child. He is most definitely not!... Wow.... I promise no more Author's Notes will be this long!  
  
~~~  
  
Shire Elf – Mmm.. candy. Yes writing is the universal cure-all! ::hugs laptop:: Frodo? Getting a little better? Bad dreams (or memories rather) are the only explanation I can give for his behavior. Poor dear. Your reviews always keep me focused. I hope you enjoyed this chapter.  
  
Bookworm2000 – Yes I've often thought of what might have been going through Frodo's head as he approached Mount Doom. Though I'm sure he had few thoughts other than, "Get this blasted thing off my neck!" Hope you enjoy.  
  
CStini – You're welcome for updating and I hope you liked this chapter as well. Lately I've been getting into Pippin's head and I thought Merry needed a bit of spotlight too.  
  
Eiluj - ::sweatdrop:: Yes... chapters... soon... keep me motivated! ^^  
  
Endymion - ::leaps on:: No waving... leaping... more fun. ::flinch:: Yes reread those chapters though my old writing style now fills me with shame. Alas! Yes I've done some insight to Frodo's mind before just to show the poor hobbit's trying... he really is. Though not quite progress. Envin shall not give up hope but as we all know 'tis foolish to rush in' and Envin is going headlong. Nine month waits are in the past!  
  
Laurajslr – English essays are evil and should be tossed into a volcano in some deep dark far away lands to destroy the evil Teacher Lords once and for all. We are halfway through I think or a little more. I cannot be sure for it is not all written and I shall be taking you all step by step on the journey home. I'm glad to say there is no more Gollum within Frodo (now we break out champagne!) This is just a glimpse at the *real* Frodo "seeking purchase in a void beyond recall". Basically he's lost too deep to even know which way is up. Hope you liked the bit of Pip and Mer in here as well. ^^ I await your update anxiously!  
  
Irish Flying Fish – Sad to say Frodo is not speaking. Those were his thoughts though I see why it may have been unclear. Trust me my dear when/if Frodo ever speaks you will definitely know! There probably won't be a character that doesn't faint if that happens ^^;;  
  
Tialys – Yes poor Pip and Mer hard to believe it's been so long that they've seen hide nor hair of their cousin.  
  
FrodoBaggins87 – Me born in '87 too! Poor dear... sad... no more... long waits.... Very goodness.... Ee! Writing simple!  
  
Wanequelle – Never give up hope me dear! What would Sam think? ::shock and gasps:: Poor Frodo... beyond memory... beyond speaking... beyond thought and dark and age... in the mists of the mind.  
  
Ailsa Joy – The last line is always supposed to hook ^^. Our dear hobbits. But what now shall Envin do? That regrettably won't be brought up for a while but I have to thank you for letting me borrow Ematen! He began as a small character but wait until Chapter 29 entitled Ematen's Heart! ^^  
  
Yahiko – Yup! Back! With new words to wield! ::shing:: ::slice:: ...ow. 


	27. Paths of the Ringbearer

Chapter 26 --- Barricade  
  
Samwise felt no hunger, sorrow and his embittered thoughts was all that filled him. He was sitting, his knees bent and his elbows supporting him as he watched the horizon. Pippin sat quietly at Sam's feet chaffing Frodo's hands tenderly. The day waned as the three tarried there, upon a hill of smooth turf and pale green grass, looking out at the wonders of Rohan. Frodo was consumed with wonder, watching the sky and the grasses sway in a scented breeze. The pale stones rose up from the mountains and the sunlight glimmered off of their white faces. Frodo leaned his curly head upon Sam's knee and felt the warmth and wonder of peace, so fleeting were these feelings that Frodo would often forget them in his prolonged times of terror. There was a darkness in the simple hobbit's mind that frightened and confused him, for he knew not from wither these rivers of flame arose.  
  
A small shudder took Frodo's frame and snatched Sam's attention away from his shadowy thoughts. He felt Frodo's body shiver and saw his dark curls tremble. Pippin too, looked up from the pale hands he sought to keep warm to their owner who seemed achill. The silence only darkened until all three hobbits saw Merry's figure striding up the hill, returning from the Hall.  
  
"They have noticed our absence, cousin." Merry smiled at Pippin, "But I have explained for us all. I come bearing small tidings, loaves of bread and some fruit. They will be quite angry to see us eating so plainly but I say we shall picnic and picnic we shall." Merry handed a roll to Frodo who took it up eagerly. Despite his earlier attempts at food Pippin found he was returning to his normal self, eating contentedly. Sam, however refused.  
  
"Come Sam," said Merry. "If Frodo refused you would have chided him so."  
  
Sam quirked a grin and took an apple. As the four hobbits ate in silence, all attention seemed fixed on Frodo, though all of Frodo's attention was on the loaf of bread he was gingerly chewing. It was then that Sam, Merry, and Pippin saw what seemed to be Frodo's hand acting on its own accord. As the one hand cradled the bread and Frodo's gaze did not leave his task, his other hand was working quite well on its own.  
  
The three spectators felt their breath stop as they watched one of Frodo's hands rummage through his pocket searching calmly. It stopped soon and stayed within the warmth of the pocket having found what it sought.  
  
Unable to stop himself, Sam came to Frodo's side and grasped his elbow gently. Frodo did not seem to care, knowing it was his protector he let his hand fall from his pocket, between the two fingers was pinched a small dried stem. All three worried hobbits released a breath they did not know they were holding. But confusion only replaced worry.  
  
"What is it?" asked Pippin in a whisper.  
  
"A youngin sprout," replied Sam taking it from between Frodo's fingers. "He had picked it mighty long ago and I scolded him cause it wasn't nearly bloomed yet."  
  
"Why does he keep the rotten old thing?"  
  
"I'm not sure," said Sam now looking up to see Frodo had finished his bread and was watching them. Frodo slowly plucked the dead flower from Sam's hand and twirled it in his fingers.  
  
"Dead," he murmured.  
  
There was a rasp from Merry and Pippin but Sam only looked at them beseechingly. "It's all he knows. That's what I was saying afore. Such despairing thoughts... the only ones he has."  
  
Pippin barely listened to Sam's words. "You spoke Frodo! Speak again! Tell me my name!" Frodo did not seem to hear. He laid back on the grass and folded his hands on his chest. His sparkling eyes were half closed as he gazed at the sky, half hearing the gentle flow of senseless words from the other three hobbits. "Please, Frodo. Please."  
  
Another shiver trembled through Frodo and he winced at this now. He had not the energy to lift his eyelids again but his brows furrowed as if he had forgotten something. The three hobbits waited expectantly until Sam saw Frodo's lips part in a slight whimper. Sam took his place beside Frodo and laid the curly head in his lap, running his hands through the dark hair and hushing him warmly.  
  
Merry suddenly thought of Sam's words earlier when he was asked what he was thinking of lying in the road. "He's a child like those that sit at the edge of dreams and nightmares watching with curious fright."  
  
Frodo's eyes were open now and full of sadness, staring at something no one else could see. But Frodo saw it and it frightened him. A great wheel of fire burned into his mind. An agonizing wheel singed into his eyes forever and anon. Why did it burn and fill his ears with ghostly words? Like thunder in his stomach and howls of wolves crashing against shields and steel in his head. Why was there an emptiness nagging at the cloudy edges of his mind? Why was he barricaded in, alone in the dark, shivering while he burned, screaming in silence?  
  
Frodo sat up, his imploring eyes looking to Sam, Pippin, and Merry. There, the three hobbits saw the desperate plea, screaming, weeping, groveling for some help to fight a darkness not even he understood. In desperation those eyes beseeched a knight of Rohan, a guard of the Citadel, and the most loyal and truehearted of servants. All three bowed their heads, helpless to it all. Long silence crept up into them making them shiver. The wind stirred quietly and the vast land once revered in its beauty now seemed empty of solace. A noise startled all four hobbits out of their thoughts to see the Lady Eowyn approaching.  
  
She held out her arms, flowing sleeves welcoming them like the wings of a swan, free of the cage she always feared. All of her was golden areigned in a white raiment, shimmering with the gentle beauty of a bloom. "My friends! You have not heard the word of my betrothal to Faramir. I so hoped to see you among my people at my brother's table. King Eomer of Rohan sought his esquire." She turned to Merry.  
  
"My lady," he bowed. "May you forgive me for my words now, but my cousins and dear friend needed me and I dare not deny their company for any king."  
  
She laughed and it seemed that the sun shone brighter upon them all as they uplifted their heads to hear such music. "That is why I have come," she whispered warmly, kneeling before the hobbits. "Meriadoc of the Shire and Holdwine of the Mark. May you ride to good fortune, and ride back soon to our welcome. My brother sought to laden you with gifts that a wain could not bear for your deeds upon the fields of Mundburg."  
  
"My lady, I want nothing but my arms and your blessing."  
  
Eowyn stood. "Very well. Then I beg of you receive this as my gift to you." The lady presented Merry with a small horn, wrought all of silver and a baldric of green. Runes of great meaning and fortune were wrought all upon it and horsemen bold and silver, swiftly riding in a line, winding from the tip to the mouth. It shone in magnificence, bright and clear as the sound that would issue forth from it. "This is an heirloom of our house. It was made by the Dwarves, and came from the hoard of Scatha the Worm. Eorl the Young brought it from the North. He that blows it at need shall set fear in the hearts of his enemies and joy in the hearts of his friends, and they shall hear and come to him."  
  
Tears glistened in Meriadoc's eyes. "I will take it, my lady, and ever think of you and your brother and my lord may he now rest among the heroes of old in shining halls of victory!" Merry laid a kiss upon her fair hand and the lady stooped and swung the small knight round, embracing him lovingly and kissing his cheek.  
  
Sam, Pippin, and with a clear ringing like fresh scented rain upon silver glass, Frodo too, laughed and joy shone in all the hearts of the hobbits and the lady. Sam turned in surprise at Frodo and embraced him warmly, tears streaming down his eyes, but they no longer stung or burned, they were fresh and clean. Frodo shook with laughter in Sam's arms, his eyes shining as the dark clouds of pain dissipated as if a quick wind sent them asunder and broke their misery.  
  
When Eowyn set Merry down his face was red and the tips of his ears burning from the kiss the lady bestowed upon him. Pippin fell over with laughter at the look upon his cousin's face.  
  
"That is my blessing, Master Meriadoc, to you and all of your kin. May hobbits never know a dark day ever again, in all their lives and may the Shire thrive forever out of the reach of any shadow."  
  
"I do hope so! Farewell my lady! Farewell!" Merry cried as she departed.  
  
The hobbits rose and journeyed back to the stables where they would once again make ride. When Eowyn mentioned the Shire Sam's mind fled home to the shining wheat fields as golden as she. Sam wondered if he thought of the Lady Eowyn or Rosie but only concluded that it did not matter. He was going home. Home where the grass shone greener than any emerald jewel and the strawberries were now growing the sweetest. Sam nearly felt the Shire's sunlight, somehow much warmer than any light he could name. The taste of ale at the Green Dragon and the grace of Rosie Cotton as she spun about the tavern. The songs in humble voices, not so grand and golden as those that rose in these halls that were far too large in splendor for any sensible hobbit.  
  
When the hobbits arrived there was a great bustle as the company of elves and Aragorn's knights made ready. Strider would be riding with them for some time though his lady chose to stay. Sam caught a glimpse of the lady Arwen atop a hill, sitting with her father. Sam saw bitterness in their parting and sorrow as they spoke long and clasped hands. Arwen rested her head on her father's shoulder and he kissed her forehead. Sam could see no more as he was lead to his pony.  
  
Frodo was in joyful spirits ever since Eowyn shone her light upon him. Sam found it not so difficult to coax him upon the pony. Emáten appeared beside them and Sam greeted him kindly.  
  
"I have not seen you for such a long while," said the knight. "It seems I shall be accompanying you for a little while longer, I am truly blessed."  
  
Sam smiled, "I am glad to see you, Emáten. Things be lookin bright for a little while."  
  
"I harkened there was magic in you!" laughed Emáten, "I see it shining like sun in your faces, Lord Frodo and yourself! But most of all the young knight of Rohan, whom is also of your kin. He glows bright as day and red as roses!"  
  
Sam laughed again, "Aye, that he does."  
  
~~~  
  
"Please, Father, do not begrudge me my decision."  
  
"I know now, my jewel, that you will never be truly happy unless you are with him. You have my love." Elrond placed his hands upon his daughter's shoulders and smiled into her face. But there was a bitter sorrow between them and the words tasted foul in their mouths. Arwen bowed her head and felt her father's warmth entering her heart. She knew what he was thinking. How cold she must be, without the light of the Eldar within.  
  
"You suffer."  
  
"I shall miss you every day." She whispered leaning against his chest and letting his arms hold her close as she did when she was young. "I have seen so much and none of it has prepared me for this. You have given me your gift, Father, but it only gives me shadows of what may come. I fear what I see but not for me, for me I see long life and many daughters and a son like his father and my father united."  
  
Elrond smiled down at his beloved daughter. "You see more than I."  
  
"I do not see you." Her head lifted and her eyes were shining with unshed tears. "That future is blind to me."  
  
"So it must be, in choosing your mortality you have forsaken all vision of what may come to pass under the Light of the Trees in the Undying Land." He cupped her chin affectionately, "Do not despair, for you will share a lifetime of love and splendor. You have chosen a clear path and life is what lies before you."  
  
"And what of what lies behind? Father I shall never see you again!"  
  
Elrond held his daughter close and ran his hand over her hair. "My daughter do not weep. My love and light is within you and that is forever undying be you mortal or elfkind. Such times must come to pass and they fall like the rain with bitter weeping. But the rain will soon end, and all of the land will shimmer under warm dawn. So it must be the rain and weeping that must usher in the light, it always must be and it always will be. That is for certain. You go with my blessing, child, and all the love in my heart. You have chosen the path of hope when I had urged you to despair and flee west. Your rain will end, your dawn approaches. Love him and you will get all the stars and dawns that will brighten your life in return."  
  
"Father." She pulled him tighter, burying her face in his chest and closing her eyes to the warmth that he filled her heart with. "There is darkness still. I fear for the futures that I see."  
  
"Why did you not give him passage then, my child?"  
  
"There are many paths I see for Frodo, all end in sorrow, though some are still unclear to me. I have foreseen this;" And Arwen released her father's embrace and stepped away gazing at the mountains among the horizon. She closed her eyes and recalled a vision: "Sam takes Frodo with the company in passing, grey in the shadows under moon and star. They pass under trees and veil of twilight. Samwise weeps and Frodo does not understand. There is a ship, a white vessel shimmering in the waters grand in its splendor upon the waves. A golden glow fills the sails and shines upon the company now glimmering as they board. Sam leads Frodo but cannot step foot upon the white deck. He leads him, both are atremble but the wonders are unheeded by the grieved Samwise and all his thoughts turn black for the rest of his days. Sam watches Frodo board, held up by the hands of Mithrandir and Frodo is full of wonder. He steps upon the deck and does not look back, the world is bright and clear, glimmering open before him and carpeted with stars. He does not see Samwise fall.  
  
Sam is on his knees and his heart is too overcome with bitterness and sorrow to stand again. All his world is darkness and no flower, no sprout, no shoot shall ever again grow by his hand. The grass withers at his feet and in darkness falls the doom of Samwise Gamgee. He is consumed with grief that his heart burns to weep and he cannot. He could not save his master. He is broken by his own failure. Samwise never saw his master again and he cannot recall when Frodo had left him. His mind reaches back to this day and knows that Frodo was gone then. His mind grasps back to Mordor and knows Frodo is gone then. Desperately he seeks Emyn Muil, Lothlorien, Moria, Rivendell. He does not know where upon the road his master was truly lost and this doom was sealed. But Samwise Gamgee grieves for the soul that he could not save or find again. He weeps ever in bitterness for the master he had failed, for the soul sacrificed somewhere along the road but where he knows not. In shadow falls the heart of Samwise Gamgee. Never again will he turn his face towards the sun. Never again will he bring life from the soil. Never again will Samwise Gamgee know a day of peace until at last time claims his withered soul as it does all things.  
  
Frodo is on the ship. He is blinded by wonder for he still cannot understand. All he knows is warmth and light and no memory of what was can reach him for he is still barricaded by some dark force that will not let him free. He is at peace, Samwise and the quest forgotten, until the grey raincurtain turns all to silver glass and his eyes rest upon a white shore and a far green country under a swift sunrise. It is then that the light of the Eldar bursts through the barricade and Frodo Baggins returns. Frodo turns to Mithrandir, his eyes afright. 'Where is Sam!' he cries 'I cannot recall what has come to pass! There was a veil before my eyes! Where is Sam!' Mithrandir seeks to explain but not even words from the lips of the white wizard can console him. Frodo looks to his maimed hand. 'What have I done! Oh Sam! What pain have I brought upon you!' And it comes to pass that Frodo, long blinded and lost, has been given sight only to see what he has done. Frodo sees that he has left Sam alone in the dark without hope or chance of solace from his grief. Sam's back breaks with the burden of his failure and Frodo cannot bear this. 'Forgive me Sam.' Mithrandir tries to stop him but he can do nothing. Waves and the white sand churning beneath them. Frodo shares the doom of his parents and both Ringbearers fall in darkness and in doubt. Thus the last vengeance of Sauron's malice is wrought."  
  
Arwen opened her eyes to feel the sting of tears in them and their cold trails along her pale, shimmering cheeks. She turned to her father and sees he too has been weeping. "I cannot give him passage, Father. Not until Samwise gets one last chance to see his master and Frodo sees Sam beginning his new life and sees fit that he can leave him in good hands. Both will feel they have failed if they are not assured the safety and happiness of the other."  
  
"Is this the vision you gave the young healer?"  
  
"No. There was so much ahead of Frodo, so many deaths or twists in his path that it branched off as many tree limbs entwining. It was every small action he made or made by others that dettered his path and sent him swiftly one way and then spun him in another in an unmerciful torrent of fate. And now as the rivers of time have flowed and sent him drifting in aimless rivulets I try to change his course before he reaches some terrible end. Long before, I was overwrought with the burden of it for I saw no way until Envin became a wind in Frodo's fate and blocked off some of his paths and opened up many others. That healer has set something into motion far beyond his own foresight."  
  
Elrond placed a kiss upon his daughter's brow. "Trouble yourself naught and sit with me a while longer before we bid farewell."  
  
"Yes, Father."  
  
~~~  
  
A/N: Well I shall take this opportunity to do something I've never done before and I don't know why. Shameless plugs! First of all if you like the character Emáten go read Ailsa Joy's fic (for she is the author that invented him) "Memories of Home". Envin, Emarin and the kitten are mine though ^^. Also you should go read laurajslr's first Lord of the Rings fanfiction entitled "The Actions of a Hero" it's sweet especially if you like Sam and Frodo. I've also been wandering around fanfiction and discovered that Ariel3 has some of the best writing I've ever seen so visit her too! And of course the perfect feel good fic "In the Hands of Friends" is just sweet delicious fluff ^^. Well these are things that have brought me joy and I hope they bring it to you as well.  
  
CStini – yes more chapters! ::sips coffee, hunches over laptop, nimbly taps keys:: Tick! Tick! Tick!  
  
laurajslr – You should know by now Sam never cuts himself any slack. He probably has a nice Gaffer quote to explain why too. "Lyin' bout in beds is only good fer tulips and laze-a-bones and no Gamgee fer certain. Sleep in and the sun, she'll be ahead o' you and ever after you'll be a-slackin'. Blink once clear yer eyes blink twice and all you do is attract fireflies." Kinda weird... the Gaffer is more difficult to write than Arwen or any of the noble fair-spoken folk. I'm glad you liked my old writing style but one must always be harder on oneself. I am so enjoying your fic I hate to see it end! Hope you enjoyed this chapter.  
  
Saiya*Queen*Vega – Thank you for your lovely review. I'm glad you like my style and I have a lot of fun with poetry. I am currently working on a poem for class a fun spin on Little Red Riding Hood. Perhaps I'll post it on fictionpress it's quite a lovely ballad so far about a saucy warrior woman named Red ^^ I loathe the weak little female character. You are right about looking back at past work and it goes for more than just writing. My advice is save everything you ever wrote, drew, etc even if you hate it utterly. I'm also glad you like my Merry I hope you like the more cheerful colorful side of him in this chapter. There will also be a dark side of him but that's in one of the later chapters. Just trying to give him dimension ^^.  
  
Tersa – Writing is my play! I wouldn't do something this much if it weren't fun. Glad you like my style I just like watching it improve.  
  
Endymion2 – Me? A child? ::huff:: ^^ Actually I think what makes someone adult is certain points in their life that have been oh-so-wonderfully named cusps by Heinlein. Basically a point in life when there's great tension and great choices to be made and whatever choices you do make can alter your life. They are what defines you and the more defined you are the wiser you are. ::clears throat:: Which is why Frodo's state is so shocking. He is a grown hobbit with so many experiences that defined him so gracefully in others eyes. Others saw his noble decisions, his brave choices, his level-headed wont, all parts of his personality developed as he grew. Now he is utterly stripped of these. A child. I'm sorry my Merry did not fit yours but alas Tolkien I am not though I do hope you liked Merry better here as this was a more jovial side of him. Now that you've seen the strong dominating Merry and the silver-tongued sweety there will be a darker more bitter side of him in a few chapters, a side created by the Quest. I think all of Tolkien's characters were completely three- dimensional and that's why we love them so I try to give them the same dimensions as well.  
  
Ariel3 – I'm glad you think that way about my writing as your opinion is particularly important to me. I have just recently been reading some of your fics and they are exquisite! I do love your style so it is an honor to meet your approval. I favor book-Frodo as well though the movie version was still wonderful and I still give him that dilectible appearance. But who wouldn't? I hope you enjoyed this chapter.  
  
Rachel Denise Martin – Welcome! Hope you enjoy!  
  
Iorhael – Development is most of the writing process. I'm glad you like this.  
  
Ailsa Joy – I'm glad you updated! You should do it more often ::grins sheepishly:: I am anxious to see where you are going with your fic! I can't wait to post Chapter 29 as it is one of the small climaxes and was oh so fun to write. Ah well enjoy our sweet hobbits and grim fortune telling elves for now ^^;;  
  
ShireElf – Thank you very much for the complement as it is one of the greatest and author can receive. It seems I am definitely doing my job then, holding your anticipation, keeping you guessing, keeping you interested, and stringing emotions like playing a harp ^^. 


	28. Aragorn's Plight

Chapter 27 --- Aragorn's Plight  
  
"Now the guests were ready, and they drank from the stirrup-cup, and with great praise and friendship they departed, and came at length to Helm's Deep, and there they rested two days." --- The Return of the King, Many Partings  
  
~~~  
  
The Fellowship sat round the warmth of a fire and joyful was their speech and soft were their words of all that was and all that may be, without mention of pain of war. Merry and Pippin spoke so long of the Shire that at length Gimli offered to bound and gag the chattering hobbits before they wasted all the air. Sam laughed as the hours grew dark and Pippin yet again interrupted Legolas with a memory that had just surfaced about an incident at the Green Dragon.  
  
"Master Pippin! I did not know our Shire had been round long enough for all these tales o' yours to have happened!" laughed Sam.  
  
Gandalf clenched his pipe in his teeth. "For a head that seemed so empty, Peregrin Took, I know now what nonsense it has been stuffed with for it not to have allowed in the simplest of orders."  
  
Merry laughed loudly at this. "Oh Gandalf your words ring truth!"  
  
Pippin's face went from aghast to crimson until his eyes narrowed and glared at Merry who was making such a raucous at his side. Pippin reached for the small pale near the fire and dumped the cool water over his cousin's head. "I'll have at you, you scoundrel of a Brandybuck! For my honor and pride!" The slender and young Peregrin leapt on his cousin who quickly subdued him all the while laughing and choking.  
  
Gandalf shook his head and Aragorn smiled affectionately. "I suppose we must talk late into the night so we stay awake long enough to be sure the fire goes out, since we have no means of stoking it."  
  
Gimli chuckled, then turned to Legolas. "I suppose now, friend elf, would be a good time to repay your promise."  
  
"Alas my fate is grim!" lamented the elf.  
  
"Dare you deny the wonder and beauty of the caves twice!? Then you must repay it thrice!" Gimli growled.  
  
"No no!" cried Legolas, laughing lightly. "Pray save me someone!" Legolas looked to Aragorn pleadingly with a smile gracing his features.  
  
"I'm afraid your doom is beyond my means of preventing. I shall say my farewells now and think well of you often. Alas the loss of Legolas Greenleaf! I shall weep late and long! A dear friend was he! Lost to the glittering caves of Helm's Deep!" Aragorn threw a hand to his heart and laughed.  
  
"My king has forsaken me!" cried Legolas as Gimli lead him away grumbling.  
  
Sam laid a hand on Frodo's shoulder as it always seemed to ease his master's fright. Frodo sat at Sam's feet looking into the fire and paying no heed to the conversations that were being exchanged over his head. Frodo's frame relaxed under the kind hand of Samwise and he rested his head on Sam's knee, staring deeply into the fire.  
  
Aragorn closed his lips around his pipe thinking long on many matters those old and those new that all still pressed his mind. He cared little for the matters that now pressed him as king but would not have decided to set them aside if it were not for Frodo. His thoughts dwelt long as he gazed at the simple hobbit under his keen grey eyes. Frodo seemed as he was when he was laid down upon the field by the Eagle that bore him from the darkness of that forsaken land.  
  
~~~  
  
Aragorn's eyes had never felt so eased, nor his heart so aflutter, when he saw the forms in the distance. He sprang forward and his long legs bore him swiftly up the hill as Frodo's limp figure was laid upon the earth. But Aragorn threw himself back a step when his eyes beheld the hobbit he had once known, so pale and gaunt and robed in filth. But what frightened the man and made his face grow pale was the eyes, open and unseeing. Gandalf was dismounting Gwahir but Aragorn knew nothing beyond the sight before him. His heart fell in misery as he dropped to his knees before the hobbit he assumed dead. Tears wet his cheeks and he placed a hand upon the dirty brow and ran his fingers gently over the open eyes. But before he let them fall closed he felt a flutter within.  
  
Aragorn's tear filled eyes soon cleared and he pressed his palm upon Frodo's brow. Alive! He gathered the broken form in his arms and wept Frodo's name into the hobbit's ear but there was no response. He looked once again into the unseeing eyes. But why? This was no sleep nor swoon. Nor was this death or madness. Aragorn pressed his lips to the filthy brow and willed the spirit within the hobbit to give him some answer. And there was nothing! Distantly Aragorn could hear Gandalf crying out to him but he was deaf to it. Aragorn's mind traveled deeper into that of the hobbit and all he could see was darkness, and all he could feel was burning, and all he could hear was the distant roar of chaotic murmurs and hateful cries... condemning... and cursing... bringing down a terrible doom! Aragorn thought he could not bear much more and yet he dared not give up. He traveled deeper and felt that he walked in circles, aimless and hopeless. He thought he might go mad... only darkness and foul words in a foul tongue willing one to madness... or just quickening one to it. The man did not heed any thoughts of turning back. He would go as deep as he must, he would stay as long as he must, he would bear the pain and madness until he found Frodo. This and so much more he owed to the brave hobbit. He would have gone on till death but he was grabbed by a rough hand and a booming voice filled the world. A command from the white wizard. Aragorn was dragged reluctantly back. But not without hearing a shrill shriek from within Frodo in response to Gandalf's voice. Aragorn fought Gandalf to search for the owner of the shriek but he was no match for the white wizard.  
  
Frodo was stumbling wearily through the thick land of mist. His faltering feet found no purchase and every step sent his senses lurching as if he were about to plunge. He was slouched, nearly broken by aimlessness. He tottered and swayed, the semblance of his true self flickering like a candle in a damp cave. Mist sought his sight, veiling it yet he felt a great trembling disturbance. There was a change in the maddening voices though he could barely sense it, long had they been driving him to and fro from sanity. Yet they shifted like great gales of wind from east to west. Someone was seeking him, nearing him. He had not the time to clear his sight before he was utterly blinded by a howling monstrous sound. Sound of great power that sought to bend and break all that held him within, yet he too would be broken. He was cast down instantly and shrieked shrilly for he sensed his own destruction nearing. He could not bear such power any longer.  
  
Once Gandalf had secured Aragorn he wrenched them both from Frodo's mind before the hobbit was utterly broken. As the man's eyes were clearing Gandalf was already blinking and soon enough glaring down at a trembling Aragorn. "Foolish, foolish man! You would have been lost as well! The madness that has claimed Frodo would have also claimed you!" roared the wizard.  
  
"No!" cried Aragorn as he opened his eyes to the great shock of the real world. His senses that had seemed to go ages in emptiness were now filled and he thought he might swoon, but lo! his will remained for the moment. "I could have found him! I heard him!" Aragorn was about to turn to the wizard and strike him and had every intention to until he noticed the hobbit thrashing in his arms.  
  
The blank eyes were wide and full of fear yet still unseeing. He fought and thrashed with all his remaining strength so terribly weak it was that Aragorn had nearly failed to notice. But the small chest heaved as if the heart behind would burst and the limbs flailed in search of some hold. There were broken shrieks so faint and hopeless, his gasping breath rasped and choked him. But time drained him and his limbs stilled and the only movement was the heaving of his frail chest and the curling of his lips in failed attempts to scream with his broken voice.  
  
"Oh Frodo!" Aragorn cradled him and wept. "What has befallen you? For this I have never seen! Death yet agony! Madness yet stillness! Silence yet roaring!"  
  
Frodo was slowly stilling in Aragorn's arms his eyes staring blankly and empty and what darkness they saw Aragorn knew not. Now turned to Gandalf, Aragorn was pleading with the wizard for aid or answers. "I know not, Aragorn, whither the Ring has banished Frodo nor what fate the Dark Lord has last reaped upon the Ringbearer in his rage and desire for vengeance."  
  
Aragorn did not seem to understand at first. He gaped at Gandalf for a long while and he felt his mind desperately grasping at every thought and sense. He shook his head. "I am sorry Gandalf. I feel... lost. I have no words to fit it."  
  
"The doom of Frodo would take a will stronger than that of Aragorn's to break." Gandalf narrowed his eyes and they clouded for a moment. Frodo's body twitched violently in Aragorn's arms and then stilled again. Gandalf's eyes cleared, "I have not the skills to soothe him. As you have seen, when I entered to save you from the same doom Frodo reacted with great panic. Panic that I fear may kill him if he must perceive a presence as overbearing as that of the white wizard's let alone hear my voice."  
  
Aragorn nodded blankly then shook his head. "And, and Sam. What of Sam?"  
  
"He is yonder, and in much better states than his master. May I pay for whatever harm I have brought upon these noble hobbits!" With that Gandalf turned bitterly and took up Sam and Aragorn gathered Frodo laying another kiss upon his brow.  
  
"I and all the people of Middle-Earth owe our lives to you, Frodo."  
  
~~~  
  
Aragorn's eyes cleared. Pippin was chattering again and Sam was smiling lightly. Merry was dozing from the ale he had imbibed and Gimli and Legolas were just returning. Gandalf's eyes were resting on him but they soon darted towards the elf and dwarf as they entered the circle again.  
  
"What of the caves, Legolas?" said Gandalf. "I feared Gimli would have returned without you, leaving you to the fate you so feared."  
  
Legolas seemed somber and remained silent as he sat, his eyes distant and his features peaceful. Gimli nodded approval and he too seemed thoughtful.  
  
"Well answer us, Legolas!" laughed Pippin. "Tell us of your survival against all odds!"  
  
The elf turned to Pippin and smiled and then to Gandalf he said, "I will say only this. Gimli alone can find fit words for the wonders in those caves and never before has a dwarf claimed victory over an elf in a contest of words."  
  
Aragorn smiled at Legolas's words but his eyes did no leave Frodo who seemed to be the lifeless doll that he was before Elrond salvaged some small remains of the hobbit. Alas! Not enough to make him the Frodo that he once was. A warm glow framed his curls and lit his pale and placid face, shining off of his clear and distant eyes. His shaking hand rose and sought Sam's, which tightened on his shoulder to comfort. The diminishing flames seemed to carry Frodo's gaze into oblivion with them.  
  
Gimli was speaking in words rich and fair to describe the caves and Sam sat in wonder. "I wish I could have gone, sir. It sounds right wondrous!" Gimli smiled at Samwise and nodded as he spoke. The glitter of the caves seemed to linger in the words of Gimli and it distracted the company from the flickering fire.  
  
Frodo closed his eyes tight and started pressing his head into Sam's knee whimpering loudly. Aragorn stood, "It seems, friends, that we should go to our dreams now lest we lose all of tomorrow's light in dosing."  
  
Gandalf agreed and lead Pippin and a swaying Merry to their beds. Gimli and Legolas took their leave and the elf reminded Gimli of his promise to even their deal the next day under the trees of Fangorn.  
  
Aragorn placed a hand on Sam's shoulder and offered to take them to their beds. The two helped Frodo to his feet who seemed distracted that night and very concerned with the presence of Sam. He leaned heavily on the gardener and Aragorn was glad to be of help.  
  
Aragorn bid them sleep well and offered to stay a while until they were peaceful in dreams but Sam declined. "Tomorrow we go to Isengard and then depart, Samwise."  
  
"Aye, sir. Thank you for all you've done for him, Strider. I should have never doubted you, sir, begging your pardon that I did but I was worried for my master's well being and all..."  
  
"I do not begrudge you for trying to protect your master, Sam!" chuckled Aragorn. "I admire you for your courage and loyalty and I now know why you wish to protect him so much. Frodo, though I knew him short and may hap never see his return, I know this: He was a good hobbit, brave and wise, he may be so again some day if you keep hope."  
  
Sam bowed his head. "I'll thank you then, sir, on the 'count of Mr. Frodo. He'd be mighty obliged to hear you speaking of him so, but right you are! Always too modest he was but he knew his capabilities so to speak. Oft there was a rare occasion he doubted himself afore, I don't know why he started to... in the end."  
  
Aragorn knelt before Sam and laid a hand upon his shoulder. "In the face of darkness even the strongest and the wisest quail before the end. If it brings you any comfort, even Aragorn and Gandalf held doubt in their hearts for a time... when the battle seemed darkest."  
  
Sam sniffed slightly before he was able to look Aragorn in the eye again. "Right sir. Goodbye then."  
  
"Farewells are for partings and sweet dreams are for sleeping. Let not your sorrow weigh on you this night. It is a fair night and bids a fairer day."  
  
"Good night then, sir."  
  
~~~  
  
A/N: Sorry for the delay. It seems fanfiction.net has been having quite a few problems with reviews and I happened to receive only one of your reviews about eighty times a day. If there are any responses to reviews I have left out I am sorry but I did not receive them yet. Also the site has been having problems logging me in which is why the update took so long. I do hope this does not happen again.  
  
Cstini – So many questions so little time. I must know your review by heart now, after all the times I've gotten it! I hope the wait was not too long. Damn you fanfiction.net! I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I'm glad you think the story is becoming more complete, I think so too ^^.  
  
ShireElf - ::grins at hopeful look:: readers are so cute when their hopeful... eh em anyway sorry for the rather long wait. Fanfiction.net has been a little iffy lately. I hope you enjoyed this chapter.  
  
Laurajslr – I realize that you have posted Chapter 13 but I have been waiting for ff.net to fix up their review problem before I risked losing another. I will give you a very very long review for it no need to worry. I'm glad you liked the Merry and Eowyn interaction. Just me having a bit of fun. I do so love the characters Tolkien has created so much. Also I wanted her to bring some peace into the hobbits' hearts. I've been tormenting them too much lately and there's more to come!  
  
FrodoBaggins87 – I'm glad we have the same taste in stories here. There is too much tripe on this page for one Tolkien fan such as myself to bear so I try to counteract the evil by rewarding the good. Alas it does little for my malcontent. I hope you enjoy my little fic though it is hardly what Tolkien would do to his characters I've gone too far with the plotline now.  
  
Bookworm2000 – As do I! But it is up to Sam now. He possesses the jewel and will be given the choice to send his master West when the time comes. Now the question is if there is enough time between now and then to get the real Frodo back!  
  
Endymion2 – Ah no offense taken I look forward to the life ahead of me and if I happen to mature more than I am now all for the better! I do have quite a few paths up my sleeve. As for "silver glass". I chose it much for the reason Tolkien has chosen it for he has used it many times. I notice he often uses it to give the reader a sense of relief that he gives the character, like the heavy burden of tension being lifted off of one's chest. At least that is what I felt when he used it in some of his descriptions. It is also fair and lovely to use and simulates more of Tolkien's universe. I just better not get too used to using it. Don't want it in my original work because well... that wouldn't be very original of me would it? I hope you enjoyed this chapter. 


	29. Kal's Birthday!

Ah, March 12 again. That means this story has been in progress for over a year! It also means that it is my birthday yet again!! And now ::jangles keys:: I drive! Therefore I shall not launch into a hobbity speech as I did last year. But just because I shall not give the Bilbo speech does not mean I shall not celebrate in hobbit fashion. No, I don't have two chapters available at the moment, which will bring your more scorn than you think once you reach the end of the one I'm giving you. Your gift is simply the quick update as I had not planned to put up this chapter for a while. I hope you enjoy. ::hops in car and floors it before readers reach the end of the chapter and come after me with torches and pitchforks::  
  
^^;;;;;  
  
Enjoy! ::vroooom:: 


	30. Elvish real version!

Eep! I'm sorry about this. I uploaded the wrong document on word. If you read the other Chapter 30 you have accidentally read my Junior Thesis on Individualism. Hah I hope I did not bore/confuse you with my English homework. This is the real chapter!  
  
Chapter 28 --- Elvish  
  
Legolas opened his ears and cleared his eyes, the silver mist that had clouded them quickly dissipated as he rose. His pointed ears shifted again as some far away noise reached them, the noise that had awoken him to begin with. The elf narrowed his eyes, all of his keen senses poised to detect the smallest pebble on Mount Doom shift. "Tanya nae n'quel," he muttered, grasping his bow. He moved slowly and soundless, knocking an arrow and shifting his eyes swiftly taking a scan of the area. "Saruman."  
  
The elf sprang quickly to where he knew Aragorn was resting. When he reached the tent he saw the Ranger sitting on the grass outside, smoking peacefully. "Good evening, Legolas."  
  
"Mani naa ta?"  
  
"You sense something?"  
  
"I think it is Saruman."  
  
Aragorn stood swiftly and grasped his sword but as quickly as he did his hand relaxed. "He is not near. I think, for once, you are wrong, Legolas."  
  
"No. He is not near but he is no longer in the tower. This I know. He has escaped, off north beyond my sight. He is no longer in the care of Fangorn."  
  
"He has escaped the Ents? How?"  
  
"I know not. But he moves slow. Aragorn, if you wish..." Legolas indicated towards his bow, knocked and ready.  
  
The king shifted in thought under the weight of his decision. "N'ndengina ho. I do not think Saruman is a threat any longer."  
  
"I'quelin goth naa ba goth," Legolas spat bitterly.  
  
"Perhaps you are right but I must consult with Gandalf in all manners with wizards, for often it cannot be known what effects they will have, for good or ill, whether or not their intentions are wholly for one or the other. It is almost sunrise, we shall not sleep any more this night. Keep watch by the hobbits, I'll inform Gandalf, if I can find him."  
  
"You did not sleep at all this night," smiled Legolas.  
  
Aragorn gave him a wan smile and departed. The elf took towards where the hobbits camped. He listened keenly but heard no noise and felt no evil in that place. But as he neared the tent once more a sound reached his ears making his hands tighten around his bow. It was frail and high, shrouded in fear and darkness. Soon a soft voice followed it and Legolas quickened his pace. "Frodo," he whispered. "Hek ungol!" Legolas ran and burst into Sam and Frodo's tent.  
  
The elf saw Samwise grasping Frodo's wrists tightly, and pressing against him with all of his weight. Frodo was flailing and groaning trying desperately to kick Sam off of him. "Legolas!" cried Sam, struggling to keep his master from hurting himself. "Help!"  
  
"Hek ungol!" Legolas cried again and then sprang toward the hobbits and laid a gentle hand upon Frodo's brow.  
  
Frodo immediately began to still, whimpering and sobbing. Sam waited a moment, unsure whether he should let his master go. But Frodo only tried to curl into himself weakly, closing his eyes tight and tormented only by dreams. Legolas sat beside the Ringbearer, gathering him close and whispering to him in a fair voice. "A Elbereth Githoniel..."  
  
"What was it you said, sir, that made him calm. It may be quite useful to me."  
  
Legolas smiled at Sam. "It meant, in Westron, be gone darkness."  
  
"Seems so plain in my speech. Elvish can make the simplest words sound so fair and foreign. Hek..."  
  
"Ungol."  
  
"Hek ungol." Sam thought for a moment. "Hek ungol... Cirith Ungol... I'm beginnin' to understand all o' this. Wish I knew it an age ago when it counted."  
  
"All words have meaning, Sam. Mellon..."  
  
"Friend. Aye, that I remember. That's all I can remember... It was Frodo's last to me. I didn't understand none o' it but that... I remembered from Moria, thank lor' my daft head can recall that at least."  
  
Legolas nodded solemnly to Sam then looked towards Frodo, sleeping somewhat peacefully. His lips curled and he squirmed under the elf's restraint but he did not lash out violently or cry out. Whatever words his lips were attempting to form, no sound issued forth. "Has he been doing this often?"  
  
"Only at night. It's dreams that bother him so, and where I can't protect him neither," Sam grumbled.  
  
"So it must be. We all have to face our fears alone at some time, all you can do is be here for him when he wakes up."  
  
"He's been sleeping for so long now..." Sam mused, rubbing his weary eyes.  
  
"You haven't slept at all this night, have you?" Legolas ran a gentle hand across Sam's worried brow. "Or the last." Sam's bleary, red eyes shifted nervously under the elf's gaze. His wan cheeks blushed slightly as he tried to stifle a yawn.  
  
"Guess it's gettin' kind of difficult to hide now."  
  
"Well hiding it did you no good, Samwise. You must tell Galadriel of this, she will offer her help. I would also if this was not the last night we shall be in the same company. Gimli and I shall pass soon to both our realms but perhaps we shall meet again, Master Samwise."  
  
"I would like that very much but home is where my heart is now, sir, and home is all I'm looking forward to."  
  
"And I as well. Look the sun has already risen, I shall rouse Frodo while you get dressed and packed." Sam went to do as bid trusting his master in the hands of the elf. Legolas lifted Frodo's trembling form and whispered a song in his quivering ear.  
  
Oio naa elealla alasse'.  
  
Vedui re, mellonamin.  
  
Vedui galad!  
  
Cormamin lindua ele lle!  
  
Mellonamin.  
  
Frodo.  
  
It was a simple song, sweet and plain, that Legolas could remember his mother singing to him every morning. It was not very fair or poetic in verse. "A simple child's song for sleepy elflings." His mother would say before kissing his forehead every morning. Of course Legolas had changed a few things for it to suit Frodo, the song still withheld it's soft and childlike quality. There was no magic in the words or vast images, recalling great kings or mountains of old. But sung in a soft voice it could put warmth into a frightened heart.  
  
Frodo's eyes flickered open revealing the shining blue flame beneath. He shifted and sighed forlornly. When his eyes met the elf they filled with confusion but the words still drifted in his mind, soft and soothing and warming his thoughts. He reached out a trembling hand and touched the fair elven face. He wanted to say, "I know this. I know these words." But he could not. His tongue twisted and his mind faltered. He sought desperately but all he could do was stumble through the mist until he salvaged something, and not knowing what he meant or said his frail lips uttered: "Mellon."  
  
For the first time in the elf's long years he gasped and stumbled back. "Frodo!" he cried. "Do you understand Quenya? Lle rangwa amin?"  
  
Frodo closed his eyes and a slight smile flickered over his so very weary features. "Mellon..." He seemed to be falling into peace and Legolas thought he beheld a spirit fleeing unto deepening rest.  
  
"Oh no! Frodo! Frodo!" But Legolas had no need of worry. Frodo was simply seeking sleep again since his night proved fretful. The elf clutched the hobbit and felt his body relax and the breathing even. Legolas sighed realizing this was a peaceful rest and nothing deeper. He laughed lightly now wanting to thrash the hobbit for scaring him so but he supposed it was mostly his fault for poising his senses to be on such alert. He calmed himself and let Frodo rest in his arms.  
  
After a while Sam appeared from washing and dressed himself. Finding Frodo sleeping peacefully made him smile and Legolas offered to carry his master as far as he could so that Frodo could remain in gentle dreams.  
  
~~~  
  
The company gathered together once more and traveled far that day for they still needed to council with Treebeard and Gandalf and Aragorn seemed quite urgent now. From Deeping-coomb the company rode and silent was their passing. The earth and air seemed to be settling from the great upheaval that shook the world. The very bowels of the earth trembling and resettling from the evil that it had belched forth shuddering throughout the mountain from all the reaches of the earth.  
  
Sam felt uneasy, the shuddering of the earth quivered throughout the gentle soul of the gardener as well. He felt it, like a light unease in his stomach and a numbing pain at the edges of his mind. Sam shook his head but could not be rid of it. He was thankful to be on the pony for the earth beneath his toes seemed to weep and singe his skin.  
  
Frodo sat in front of him, no longer asleep for Legolas needed to relinquish him in the end so that he may ride. Frodo did not seem begrudged at all and pressed his head against Sam's shoulder lightly. If Sam's ears were not throbbing from the painful weeping of the growing things around him, he would have sworn he could hear his master humming a distant song.  
  
Frodo sighed, sensing Sam's pain, and reached a tentative hand out to wrap around Sam's. The simple hobbit reached up with his other hand and stroked Sam's curls soothingly. Sam's eyes glanced down at Frodo. "He's trying to comfort me."  
  
The elf watched the two hobbits from a distance as he rode silently. He smiled as he saw Frodo's hand stroking Sam's hair. Legolas had not told Sam of the word Frodo had uttered for he knew it would do no good for the gardener to know. Frodo did not know what he said, nor its meaning. When Frodo could understand, only then would it bring Samwise joy.  
  
At last the company came upon where the stone circle had been and the dark gate to Isengard once stood. And they saw that the Ents had thrown down the gates and destroyed the circle of stone and a great garden was already coming into blossom. Great vines wove round the destruction and blossomed into sweet smelling orchards, wild and redeemed. Sam's cheeks turned pink as he gazed upon the growth and green before him and his eyes seemed to shine as if a new life was burning now in him. The young gardener looked on in wonder and great relief as if the burden of burning dead things was thrown off of him and he too was allowed to blossom. The ashes of the mournful forest spirits no longer plagued the gardener's mind and their malice was silenced for their foe had been cast down into darkness.  
  
Two tall trees stood, rigid and still, like sentinels where the gate once stood. The travelers stayed there for some time and gazed out upon the green paths and growing things. They beheld the wonders and strength of the Ents but could not see near or far within. Presently a voice made the earth shudder with a deep, merry bellows of, "Hoom-hom."  
  
Treebeard and Quickbeam came striding towards the travelers and some felt their hearts quail before the greatness of the Treelords. Gandalf rode forward and hailed them joyfully. "Hasty, young wizard, could you not have waited until we, hoom, reached you?"  
  
Gandalf laughed, "I must thank you! For all of the great deeds you have done for I see that you have not been idle."  
  
"Ah my white friend, and your deeds mightiest of all, for I have heard word of all the goings on in the east and the south and all of it good." Treebeard then saw to it to praise Gandalf as well as the king for all of their deeds, of which he seemed to carry great knowledge of. Merry and Pippin sighed and leaned back on their steeds, knowing well that this might take quite a long time. And it did, but the long passing of time was barely heeded for Sam was taken by the warmth of growing things, and Frodo as well.  
  
Emáten then chose to ride close beside the small lords and watched their eyes grow distant and shimmer. He looked about him and saw in truth where the hearts of hobbits lie. Emáten bent forward and plucked an orchard from the vine, fully blossomed and with a sweet pungent smell. Sam turned to him, seeing the man press it gently to his nose and smile at the scent. But Frodo did not tolerate the action. He nearly shrieked and his eyes narrowed in anger. Sam could not behold Frodo's face but felt the body before him stiffen and he pressed Frodo close. "Naught be afraid, Mr. Frodo. Its just Emáten." Sam quickly pulled away at hearing a deep rumbling growl in the back of Frodo's throat.  
  
Frodo felt fear and anger shiver through him and Emáten beheld his countenance with fear. "Lord Samwise! Forgive me for what I am about to say but I can think of no fair words to suit your master: He looks like an enraged beast about to thrash me!"  
  
Frodo? Angry? Sam had, of course, seen his master very angry, especially when it came to matters concerning the Sackville-Baggins or strictly the mean doings of Ted Sandyman. He had even seen Frodo give Ted a decent throttling at the Green Dragon after listening silently to several unwholesome comments about his parents from the foul-mouthed twit. But after the destruction of the Ring, and the entrapment of Frodo within himself, he was timid and docile as a kitten.  
  
Frodo raised a shaking finger to Emáten and muttered, "Dead." His tone was low and final and the man felt his blood run cold. He did not quite fear the feral hobbit but he honored him greater than any lord. The man jumped from his horse and fell to his knees. "Forgive me whatever I have done." He did not know if this would satisfy the Ringbearer or if even the hobbit understood him but he was ashamed and sought forgiveness.  
  
"Get up, Emáten," said Sam. He rubbed Frodo's shoulders and felt his master relax in his arms. "It's the flower you picked. Frodo sees that you have killed it. While we were still in Ithilian he picked a youngun' bud just startin' its bloom. I scolded him for it. If I had known what sort o' impact that woulda had on him I should have just let him alone."  
  
Frodo shook in Sam's arms and Emáten mounted his horse again. "Forgive me, I know not what I do. Oh, my lord, I only wish to please your master. I try to understand the sacrifice he made but I cannot fully, I know that."  
  
Sam felt hurt burn in him and his hands tightened about Frodo's shoulders. "This," he muttered, turning Frodo to face Emáten. The man looked into the honest, frightened eyes and fair face. He beheld the simplicity in his expression, the confusion worn upon his brow. "This is the sacrifice he made. This is what he has become and the only way you can understand, I reckon, is if you knew him afore he was this. This is not my master." Frodo whimpered, not liking this sort of attention at all. Sam pulled him close again and smoothed his curls.  
  
Emáten opened his mouth to say something but the company moved forth again and Frodo almost cried out as the beast that bore him moved. The travelers could hear the ent-voice booming in the air above them as Gandalf followed Treebeard and the company traveled to Orthanc. "Hoom-hoom! Saruman has grown weary of my voice for I have spoken to him long, hoom, of tales that speak of ages and words that whisper in years. He is bitter. Yes, yes, very bitter, the blackhearted-darkeyed-foulsouled-twistminded-rottenrooted- venomvoiced..."  
  
"My dear friend," Gandalf interrupted as politely as he could. "Though there are no words for how well your name suits him. What of Saruman? I doubt he thinks that you have improved the view of his tower."  
  
"Yes the name in Entish goes on quite long, Gandalf. As long as the suffering he has dealt towards the trees. He was weary of me though he gathered no news otherwise. I spoke to him from the window atop his tower and he grew angered. He would storm away but then return asking of more news. He was greedy for it and yet it angered him so. He is bitter towards The One that threw him down."  
  
"Ah hah!" Merry thought. "So Saruman knows about what Frodo has done. I do not think it was wise of Treebeard to tell him but I suppose he would have found out anyway." He leaned towards Pippin and saw that his cousin too understood Treebeard's words. "We must watch out for Frodo if that miserable snake is still slithering about," said Merry.  
  
Pippin nodded, "He is a vengeance seeking body, no doubt, Mer. I wonder if he knows of all our parts in this, including Sam."  
  
"I doubt it, Pip, if Treebeard used the words 'The One'... That's Frodo." The two hobbits nodded and chose to seek Sam as soon as possible. The wizard and the treelord still spoke on.  
  
Gandalf looked hard at Treebeard, "I see that you very carefully use words such as: grew, dealt, and was. But what about Is? Where is he? Is Saruman dead?"  
  
"Dead? No, hoom, not dead. Not to my knowledge anyway, horoom." Treebeard gave Gandalf a long look, deep and cunning. "He is gone. I let him go and that worm-creature that follows him like a pale shadow. Do not tell me, Gandalf, that I promised to keep him, for I know I did not. I promised to keep him until he could do no more harm and he is stripped of his power. You do know how I hate the caging of live things and a snake without fangs may crawl as he will."  
  
"Yes, Treebeard, but I fear this snake still has one fang. As for Orthanc."  
  
Aragorn rode forward and praised the treelord. "As king I give the trees this valley to do with it as they will as long as they keep watch over Orthanc and see that none go near it."  
  
"I made Saruman lock it, Quickbeam has the keys," said Treebeard. And the tree beside him bowed and creaked, handing the iron keys to the king. "If you wish to stay you and your company are forever welcome under the trees."  
  
All declined save Legolas, who turned to Gimli and smirked. "Come now, friend Gimli, and set the score right! We shall travel into Fangorn, with Treebeard's leave, and there I shall see the wonders of entwood and such trees as are not to be found anywhere in Middle-Earth. Whenceforth we shall travel together back to our homelands." Gimli grumbled but had no choice and agreed. As the two traveled Legolas turned back to Sam and Frodo, smiling brightly.  
  
Sam thought he could hear words from deep within the trees, words of a song, soft and simple, that he had never known nor had he thought it to be as fine as many elvish songs he had heard. Frodo however, beamed with delight and recognized it promptly, sighing and shifting into peace. He rested his head against Sam's shoulder and harkened the fading words. But once they failed among the echo of the trees they quickly drifted out of Frodo's thoughts and a shadow crept in. Something dark and evil that made the hobbit cringe and stiffen with fright. Sam could feel his master shiver before him.  
  
"Mr. Frodo, what's wrong? Mr. Frodo...?"  
  
But Sam's voice died upon Frodo's ears. His eyes clouded as his sight turned inward, towards something that seemed to mock him from a distance. Some uncouth thing that seemed to be nearing him with vengeance in mind. And it was not the Ring's treachery that brought murderous threats to him, but another's...  
  
~~~  
  
A/N: Mwahahaha! Oh come now stop your whining I've been very nice so far and I don't think I've thrown any cliff-hangers at you in quite a while. Indeed it was do time. I hope you like your mathom gift because the next chapter's a doozy! And now to translate all of that pesky elvish for you! "Tanya nae n'quel." (That's not good.) "Mani naa ta?" (What is that?) "N'ndengina ho." (Don't kill him.) "I'quelin goth naa ba goth." (The best foe is a dead foe.) "Hek ungol!" (Begone Darkness!) "Lle rangwa amin?" (Do you understand me?) And Legolas's song...  
  
Ever is thy sight a joy.  
  
Arise and greet the day, my friend Frodo.  
  
Arise and greet the light!  
  
And my heart will sing to see thee!  
  
My friend.  
  
Frodo.  
  
2A/N: And now to torment you more with a bit of a taste of the next chapter. 'He then crawled forward in the dirt and dust and his face was cut and bleeding. He crept forward on squirming knees and clawing hands until his hands grasped filthy robes and he looked up into an evil countenance and shivered in dread...'  
  
~~~  
  
chibi neko3 – Glad to see you dear lass, I hope you enjoy the rest. I think the wait was closer to nine months but there will be no more of that!  
  
FrodoBaggins87 – Not quite regret I just worry what Tolkien would think. I wish to do his characters justice and it seems my own story lines have snuck in there any way. I hope you liked this chapter. Elvish is fun but cliff-hangers are more fun!  
  
laurajslr – I'm glad you liked the flashback scene and the one with Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli jesting. I felt that the fellowship have become like brethren now and every now and again they are allowed to have a bit of fun. Not all gloom and doom any more... well sometimes not all gloom and doom. Next chapter will knock you on your bum hopefully. I hope you liked my review I think I said everything I need to and I hope you do more lotr fanfiction in the near future.  
  
CStini – I shall never stop torturing you! Hee... and this chapter must have been the worst so far. Oh well this one will be nothing compared to the next... ::evil smirk:: You are very very very right about the rising events that will lead to big climaxes. I think it's about time for a climax don't you? Next chapter!  
  
ShireElf – "wow!" is good. I hope this chapter didn't hurt too much because the next one will kill!  
  
Endymion2 – Ah hah you've mentioned a few of my favorite lines. Yes every so often I am struck with an ingenius line and then sometimes... I'm... er... not... Oh poor Aragorn, what would Middle-Earth do with a king in such condition!? I do wish the silver glass thing soothed you as it did me, of course the end of the story was horribly emotional but the silver glass brings me to Frodo's point of view more, and all I can think is.... Relief. Of course then I'm right back to Sam and all I can think is "WHY!!" ::sob:: I assure you Elrond is trying his hardest for Frodo and putting Aragorn in the same situation... ::shudder:: is a truly evil thought... but... I have an eviler one!... ::dashes off to write next chapter laughing maniacally::  
  
Gentle Hobbit – Ah, another of my favorite lines. You readers sure do pay attention. I'm glad. Yes it is hard to associate Gandalf with destruction but he has power and power put one way or another is capable of destroying. Frodo cannot handle any more power such as that after the Ring. And remember what Gandalf said "I cannot force you to be rid of it... that would break your mind..." Similar situation don't you think?  
  
Jet-1 – I hope you get this far so that you may read this. No, Sam is much much younger than Frodo. You should read the books there is so much more to gain from Tolkien's masterpiece than Peter Jackson's adaptation... though I commend Jackson whole-heartedly, he definitely did the books justice. The book begins somewhat like the movie, at Bilbo's birthday party. Bilbo and Frodo share the same birthday which is never mentioned in the movie but it turns out that that is Frodo's 'coming of age' which means he is turning 33, which considers you an adult in hobbit culture. However after Gandalf tells Frodo to keep what he suspects to be the One Ring safe and secret Gandalf disappears for almost 20 years! I know a shocker. Frodo leaves for the quest when he is 50. Sam is around 35 I think when he leaves for the quest. A significant age difference. Merry is in his thirties or forties and Pippin is still considered a child at the age of 29 when the quest begins. The Quest takes approximately a year and the only explanation I can think that Frodo could possibly look young is that the Ring grants you youth and unnatural long life which of course explains Gollum at the age of 500 (very unnatural but he looks good for his age, eh?) I hope that helps. I pray you read the books! 


	31. Calling

Chapter 29 --- Calling  
  
It came to pass that the company soon dispersed for they were weary and made short camp there, beside the trees of Fangorn. They would ready to depart in their separate ways the next morn. It was not yet dusk and Frodo was becoming desperately restless. He began to fight Sam in every which way but did not have any wants of his own. Sam would try to lead him and he would not walk; Sam would try to feed him and he would not eat; Sam would try to lay him to bed and he would not sleep. The two struggled on toward their tent for a while. Frodo, crying out and attempting to wrench himself away from Sam's grip. Finally Frodo's struggling arms were let go out of exhasperation. "Fine sir, where do you want to go if not to bed?" Frodo pulled against Sam's last attempts at restraint and threw himself forward with all of his might. His arms, once free, clutched around his chest instantly, his nails digging into his shoulders. He let his knees give way and he remained, head bent, arms clutching, leaning forward on the ground. Sam could not decide whether he was more frightened or confused at this stance. He knelt down and put a hand on Frodo's quivering shoulder. "Master?"  
  
Frodo gasped and his body jerked away at the touch. Sam felt a pang of guilt for frightening his master but he could not simply sit there beside him any more. It was no longer enough. "Come now, Mr. Frodo, naught be afraid." Frodo finally turned his fearful eyes toward Sam and his lips moved in pleading whimpers. "What's hurtin' sir?" Sam attempted to inspect Frodo's arms and chest and stomach. There were no hurts as he already assumed but he somehow wished there were. "Outside wounds are easier to heal than the ones deeper in," Sam mused. "The ones that can't be seen..."  
  
Frodo's voice seemed to rise in urgency, his weeping coming to a desperate cusp. It almost seemed like his voice now, his real voice, the tone and soft pitch of Frodo Baggins... if he were terribly terribly distraught. And such a state Sam had never seen the real Frodo in and concluded that it did not matter right now. What mattered was comforting his master. Sam pulled Frodo close and let the curly head rest upon his breast. "Oh, shush me dear. Shush and I'll watch over you, won't let no harm come to you none. I will do a better job of watching over you now, me dear, naught be afrighted."  
  
But Sam's words did not soothe. He did not even know if they were heard. Frodo let his head be pulled down to rest against his protector's chest and he felt the warmth touch his cheek, but there was no solace in the touch. No comfort lie within those careful caresses as his curls were easily tamed by the gentle hands. There was no warmth to be had in those endearments. Unlike any other child, he could not find comfort from parental cares without, and there was no rest from the turmoil within. A warning was rising in his heart, now low and distant, now rising like incantations in a barrow, now lifting to the very clang and clamor of war horns! And he was deaf to the gentle endearments of one gardener.  
  
He finally felt no warmth, only the anticipation of torment. Sam's touches became taunting mockery of what a voice in his head promised would come. Frodo sprang away from Sam's arms, clutching at the ground and shaking his head. If his thoughts could be put into any discernable speech it would be a soft pleading of; "No. Oh please, no." Thoughts churned in his head, over and round, beseeching whatever made these horrid promises of vengeance that he wished no harm to any... that he could not remember doing any harm. But his thoughts were lost in the darkness, and whether the pitiful pleas were heard or not could not be certain.  
  
And now he turned to Sam, a look of betrayal in his eyes that cut the honest gardener to the quick. Frodo's brows furrowed in confused anger as if to say, "Why do you do nothing? I trust you above all else to protect me and yet you fail when I need you most." Sam clutched at his heart and felt tears burn his eyes. He placed a hand upon Frodo's shoulder again but this time he was pushed more violently away. A sob escaped Frodo's trembling frame and Sam could bear it no more. He lunged towards his master and grasped him in an attempt to embrace him and drive all of his fears away by force of love. It was out of sheer desperation and Sam did not consider that it might frighten Frodo more than soothe him. He could only feel immense anger at the moment. Anger at what the Ring had done to his master, anger at the fact that his master was being tortured in a place Sam could not take him away from, rage at whatever tortured him, and finally immense sorrow for he then realized that his master had gone where he could not follow.  
  
"Oh master!" Sam cried, pressing Frodo close. "Where have you gone? Why can't I find you? Why can't I follow?" Frodo flailed and fought weakly against Sam's hold. But soon his movements became strong, his arms beating back his legs kicking violently. He was growing more desperate. He needed to get out of this place. He needed to get away from these voices!  
  
It became evident he would take no caution in his actions and he cared not if he harmed even Sam. He clenched his eyes shut and cried out in a failing voice, his frantic fists clumsily thrusting in any direction until he caught Sam in the stomach, then the jaw. The gardener slumped to the ground gasping for breath. Frodo was free for the moment and scrambled forward only to be stopped by a great towering creature in white robes. Frodo cried out and shielded his face, backing away as quick as his frantic movements would allow. Sam groaned as he began to uncurl and regain his breath. Frodo clutched him, now more desperate for his comfort and Sam felt a little bitterness. "Now he's gone and changed his mind about what he wants, and why I suppose I'll never know," he thought. But when he looked up he saw why.  
  
The hobbits were not far from the company at all and the first to arrive at their side was Gandalf. The wizard backed away a few steps though he wished to see about Sam and what this was all about. Frodo's fear would only cause more problems. But Gandalf fought to become less menacing, he threw down his staff and beat back his power. To any he might appear a simple old man, wearied and worried. But this did not quite fool Frodo. Still it was a try. Gandalf knelt before the two hobbits and Sam looked up pleadingly, not suffering to speak but Gandalf knew what the gardener asked for.  
  
The wizard placed a kind hand to Frodo's cheek but the simple hobbit flinched and clenched his eyes shut tight. "Calm now Frodo. Hear my voice and know me." He gathered up the hobbit and held him securely. The three journeyed the short distance to the tent and Sam ran in to situate his master. Gandalf took a breath then followed. "Go on Samwise. Seek rest and I shall see what I can do for your master."  
  
Sam was loth to leave and he just stood for a moment, wringing his hands. But as he watched Frodo grasp his ears and cry out Sam could bear no more. The gardener quickly fled and Gandalf tried to give the simple hobbit peace. Merry and Pippin were taking council with Treebeard though they had seemed reluctant. Sam knew not where to flee but he could feel his heart shattering. It was Emáten that he finally fled to and sat long with him until Gandalf returned.  
  
The wizard stepped into Frodo's tent silently and watched Sam leave. Making sure the gardener was gone, for he knew now that it was not often true when it seemed Sam was not by Frodo's side. But indeed Sam was gone and Frodo paced the tent and tore at the walls and threw himself down on the blankets murmuring nothing in a language unknown.  
  
Gandalf was still and silent until he saw Frodo had finally stopped his fit and was staring wildly about him as if his eyes strained to see beyond a mist. "What do you see?" the wizard whispered. Frodo's eyes shot to him but stayed not there and darted about. "You are frightened, like an animal that can foretell a storm very near."  
  
He suddenly remembered the night Aragorn came to him giving him word that Legolas had sensed Saruman was free and wandering at his wont. "Does he seek you?" There came no answer though Gandalf sought not on his lips but deep within the hobbit's mind for an answer. None still came. "Where are you, Frodo?" he finally lamented.  
  
In the tent the wizard's mind strove hard against the barriers that kept him from Frodo's but to no avail. If he ever delved deeply within the hobbit Frodo would scream as if burned and writhe as if he were lying in a pool of sulfur and coals. "My power is too great for you to understand. I fear that I shall break you yet with my presence. Oh Frodo, this Quest has claimed more of you than I can bear to see!" He then lifted the fretting hobbit and brought him again to Sam.  
  
~~~  
  
"My lord, I am afraid there is not much comfort I can offer you."  
  
"Unless you can bring my master back there is no comfort you can offer me and that's a fact," muttered Sam. "I've never seen him so... alone."  
  
Emáten shifted uncomfortably. "Why is he so frightened?"  
  
"I wish I knew. I wish I knew what was causing this. He seemed to be on the mend... just a little. He seemed happy for a while. Well not happy maybe, but not afraid. The world wasn't so scary for him, I don't think. Not so scary." Sam chewed his lip and wrung his hands. "You didn't know him, Emáten..."  
  
"I wish I had," said the young knight.  
  
Sam looked away, "No you don't, because then you would have had to lose him. The change is so terrible. So terrible it makes my blood boil!"  
  
"Would you rather to have never known him?"  
  
"No!" Sam cried, leaping to his feet. "Not ever! Not ever would I wish somethin' like that!"  
  
"Well then how is it different for me?" Emáten smiled wryly with a look of pity in his eyes but also, as always, immense respect.  
  
Sam took in a breath and sat down again. "It shoulda been me. I was supposed to protect him, I shoulda suffered all he did. That was the whole purpose you see. We were all there to take the blows for him, in a way. The fellowship was formed for that purpose. And it failed. I failed."  
  
"If it was you," began Emáten tentatively. "Then I would have never met you and it would be your master sitting here brought to tears over what became of his friend..."  
  
"I was his servant."  
  
"His friend," insisted Emáten more sternly. "I think it's just as worse if it had been you. I would have never known Lord Samwise Gamgee the Brave and your master would be feeling just what you feel. Don't deny it. You know it too well yourself. He'd suffer if he lost you."  
  
Sam bowed his head in his head and wept. The gardener felt as if he might get some rest until he saw Gandalf running towards him with Frodo cradled in his arms. "I am sorry, Sam!" he cried from a distance. And when he came hither, he set Frodo upon the ground. "My power is too great for him. I cannot stay near."  
  
Sam looked down upon a trembling Frodo and gathered him in his arms. Just then the simple hobbit shot to his feet and looked around wildly. Before a word was uttered he darted into the forest in a mad and senseless dash. Gandalf called out and made to run after him but stayed himself and gripped Emáten, "Fly! Get him!"  
  
Sam had already set flight to chase his master and Emáten soon followed. But madness and urgency granted Frodo great speed and he cared not if he stumbled. He scrambled madly through the forest and the trees looked upon him and did nothing for they knew now that any Halfling in their wood was sacred and they were honored by his presence. When Frodo stumbled a quick limb held him up. Wind was at his heals and pushed him forward gently. The forest sought to aid him in whatever purpose he now had. Whispers of "Ringbearer! Welcome our savior!" shivered in the leaves and when Sam and Emáten heard the words they felt afraid that Frodo would soon disappear into the wood beyond all recall.  
  
Shadows in the forest lifted like a veil revealing to Frodo all the beauty of Fangorn and magnificent trees that were once hidden from mortal sight. They shimmered in the warmth of light that soon bathed his face and it would seem enough to catch the simple hobbit in awe so that he would halt and stay still, too filled with wonder that he could not comprehend. But there was a danger in the corners of his mind and a pain within his heart. Evil whispers and shrill cries of urgency rang throughout his head and blinded him to the forest's beauty.  
  
No root rose up to meet Frodo's faltering feet and the path before him was whisked clean of anything that might hinder him. Leaves brushed his cheek gently but no sharpness of twig met his fair face. Vines and canopies rose before him like veils unto a great lord's chambers and the dew glistened upon the grey tree bark and pooled in silver puddles in the bowls and fissures of the ancient trees. The evil malice that once lurked in the hearts of blackened trees was lifted with a soft endearing towards the Ringbearer but soon closed towards Emáten and the path would begin to darken until Sam's voice rang out clear and high, "Master! Master!" When the gentle voice touched the air and stirred it the trees again did whisper, "Heart of the earth! Ever at the heals of your master, he is safe!" But Sam took no heed and Emáten was safe at the time from any of the trees' malice.  
  
Frodo sprang forward and before the ground met him vines entwined with his wrists and he was lifted to his feet again and he ran without a pause in his step. The forest grew deeper and darker and trees that had no longer opened their ears to the tales of their herders were surrounding him. Their darkness knew no end and the deeds of the Ringbearer were lost to them. Frodo's flight was soon hindered by root, limb, and stone. He fell to his knees and scraped them horribly. He cried out as his blood touched the forest floor but he then rose and ran on, so great was his fear.  
  
Sam felt the earth shudder beneath his feet and the trees around him cried in lament. "He has gone too deep! The Ringbearer's blood has been spilled!" Sam shrieked and tore forward, his master now lost from his sight and Emáten soon falling behind for the trees now sought to aid the gardener to save his master.  
  
Shadows filled the forest and the grey wind swept by the darkling landscape and still Frodo paid no heed. He ran like a wild thing and he gasped horribly until he fell upon his face and wept. He then crawled forward in the dirt and dust and his face was cut and bleeding. He crept forward on squirming knees and clawing hands until his hands grasped filthy robes and he looked up into an evil countenance and shivered in dread.  
  
"Ringbearer, say the trees. So to you I do owe thanks to my downfall." And the black, twisted voice fell like poison on the hobbit's ears. It had been calling him, threatening him, cursing him terribly. Saruman's clawlike hand dug into Frodo's hair and tore against him like the tearing of so many vicious razors. Frodo's blood ran cold and he cried out again.  
  
~~~  
  
A/N: Ah another cliffhanger, this one decidedly worse than the last! Sorry for the long delay. This chapter has been in the works for a while and I had to cut it in half for suspense and length purposes. Also I'm working on another short, one chapter ficlet that should be up soon. I hope I haven't lost all of you! Please don't give up on me. I want this fic to be complete and as flawless as my current skills will allow. Long constructive reviews inspire long chapters and fast updates! ::horribly conspicuous hints::  
  
elentari*angel – Calm down dear! Words and sentences and criticism. Thank you for the review ^^ and I'm glad I'm reaching you.  
  
CStini – Yay you like! Good now I hope this chapter has cleared things up. You guessed well though I haven't been focusing on keeping it much of a secret. The ending is my own little secret though. Hopefully I'll get there soon.  
  
Frodo's gal – Sorry this took so long. I'll try to update faster. I'm happy that this is your favorite story. I try my best and it does refine my skills very nicely.  
  
ShireElf – Sugar is good! I hope I'm not driving you guys too insane. Don't want any more people stuck in poor Frodo's predicament. Frodo comforting Sam is the sweetest, I love it. Thank you for the presents. The customs of men are not too shabby. I like receiving gifts though there needn't always be an excuse for such ::wink:: Nice reviews are welcome all year round.  
  
Laurajslr – Yes... cruel... ::falls to knees:: Sorry sorry sorry! For the wait and the wicked cliffhangers. I am 17 now and reveling in the short two months where my boyfriend is only technically one year older than me. When will Sam hear this new word of Frodo's? When Frodo understands it, I guarantee that. Ah yes... I miss time as well. It was so lovely to have, give, keep, waste... but then I killed it.... ::laughs uneasily at horrible joke:: Well my sense of humor notwithstanding I'll hopefully get the next chapter done without so much of a wait and my new fic done even earlier. I promise it won't be an epic like this bloody marvel.  
  
Jet-1 – If I was not a fan would I be writing this bloody epic of a fanfic. I hope your liking. Read the books!  
  
Yahiko – Sorry that I didn't put a warning up for this one. Demon am I ::feigns indignation:: Well take this ::throws cliffhangers a plenty:: mwa hahaha!  
  
Tersa – I'm not sure what glomping is but it sounds painful. Don't we put him through enough our dear little blue-eyed hobbit? Now we have do go about the nasty business of glomping? Our poor dear ::pats his dazed little head::  
  
Rosemary Baggins – I like your name ^^. One sitting, eh? Well I commend you and thank you for your interest. I hope you noticed the improvement of the writing as I can credit this fic to refining my skills. Enjoy! And review often!  
  
Stoneage Woman – I appreciate all the reviews. I hope I don't disappoint you. This cliffhanger was truly evil.  
  
Ailsa Joy - ::huggles:: Glad to see you back! I hope you plan to compensate for you absense with plenty of updates and reviews. I am anxious to see where your story is going. 


	32. Emáten’s Heart

Chapter 30 - Emáten's Heart  
  
Sam heard a wail in the distance and lunged forward crying out to the Lady to aid him. The trees no longer pressed him forward for he too, was surrounded by those that were darkened by evil hearts and heard no tales of what had come to pass. He fell to his knees and climbed forward again. Emáten's voice rang behind him but he answered not and tore forth with all his might.  
  
"My lord! Do you not see this darkness that rushes forth? Like a curtain it is laid before me. You seem to see clear but you do not hear me!"  
  
Sam indeed could barely hear the man's voice as he rushed to and fro frantically. He thought he heard a cry but then it would seem to rent the air and fly past and somehow become new in a different place. This strange echo caused such confusion that Sam could hear naught else, save his own breathing. The forest seemed to be dimming as he traveled deeper and Emáten's footsteps faded into nothingness. Sam began to hate this forest. It was not innocent wood of green growing things but a treacherous creature with a foul heart of its own. Memories of The Old Forest crept into Sam's mind, and the horrible willow that tried to swallow Merry and Pippin and drown his master.  
  
Gritting his teeth he tore forward again, weaving through the twisted, rotten trees, losing himself in a labyrinth of hoary trunks, curling up into a thick weave of black bark and branching off into the heavy cluster of limbs that had overgrown their space and hung with great girth. They were trees such as Sam had never seen, that did not seem to obey any law of nature that the Ents might encourage. Some were so stuffed with limbs that the trunk had split and it seemed that the entire tree had been pealed into heavy slices, entangled in their own girth and growth or simply braided from the roots upward and then the pattern completely lost as the cluster of limbs hung and jutted in every which way. Some were stout and so thick and twisted that Sam could not imagine that the sap within had a path of flow at all or just coagulated like a dead man's blood.  
  
The trees that had not the ability to gain such immense girth that gave off such putrid stank were still vile and terrible in their form. Slinking up like coils of snakes wound the thinner trees, calloused and thick with hide, bent and yawned in such gaping arches that the smaller woven branches at the top leaned over and clawed at Sam's curls. He cursed and swung up his arms violently to snap them and some gave way with a dead creak as the dust within them filled the air, but others dug deeper into Sam and he struggled against it. The stout gardener planted his feet and with a grunt heaved forward, throwing himself to the ground and cracking off many of the miserable branches that hindered him. The tree groaned in fierce rage but did nothing more as the gardener was out of reach.  
  
Sam did nothing in recompense to the tree that was keeping him from his master, though his heart desired to, he pressed on under the forest's watchful eye. His feet sped away until the reaching, moaning trees seemed to blur together in their hideous forms. By now Emáten was out of sight and hearing shot and seemingly completely out of Sam's thoughts. "A knight with a sword could do better against these trees than a frightened and confused hobbit," reasoned Sam. "Oh master call out to me or I won't never find you!"  
  
Frodo's body was thrown to the ground with all of the rage that Saruman could muster and such was it that he was nearly knocked senseless. A dark shadow hovered behind the foul wizard but it remained silent and unnoticed. Frodo was still for a moment until his shaking arms found anchor in the earth and he pushed himself up, trembling. His frightened eyes met Saruman's but the wizard was too consumed with hatred to notice what was missing in Frodo. "I feel the power you once held. The power that should have been mine." A crooked hand descended upon Frodo's pale and cut cheek and with a cry he fell to the ground again. Frodo grasped his burning cheek, feeling the cool tears bathe the scornful wounds. He pressed his cheek to the ground and clutched his reeling head. This voice, these words, each hurt more than the blow that followed them.  
  
Then the voice rang again, dripping with the bitter poison of disdain; "You worked against me. You sought my fall." Frodo strangled his whimpers and began to inch away. A hand again twisted into his hair and dragged him through the dirt like nothing more than a doll. He was lifted onto his feet again and forced to stare into those twisted eyes. "He who saw this black deed done must pay!"  
  
"He's paid! But I am not! I bore the Ring!" came a bold cry.  
  
Saruman looked up and saw Samwise Gamgee standing proudly and panting raggedly at the edge of the dark clearing. The deadly gaze pierced the gentle gardener and though Sam trembled beneath it he did not turn away. "I see the mark of the Ring upon you as well!" The shadow behind Saruman shifted as if it had been commanded to have done so and sprang forward upon Samwise. The pale and uncouth creature, Wormtongue, attacked Sam with a blazing fury.  
  
Emáten was lost but he would not halt or slow. He turned, hearing voices and sought in that direction but for all he knew it could have been the trees. "Sam! Sam!" he cried forcing himself onward. The whispers of the trees rose into a terrible chaos of murmurings. The man pressed his palms against his ears and screamed. "Stop it you vile things! I must find Frodo and Sam! Not too long ago you had praised them yet now you conceal them from me!" But there was no answer save the rise and fall of whispers like the coming of a great wave to crash upon him. Emáten set his jaw and unsheathed a mighty sword. "I shall hack you all down until not a tree in this forest stands! I will find my lords!" The whispers now were angry and the trees began to close on him so Emáten did as he had promised. He raised his blade and vines and branches came crashing down with a clean cleave. The trees shuddered and screeched horribly.  
  
Never had any man had the gall to take steel to the flesh of trees and reap them like lowly sheaves of wheat. Fury trembled in the earth as the roots shifted from their long dormant nests. But the trees had not the strength to move, too long had they been asleep and rotting in their own sloth. Their heavy branches swung as if wielded by a fierce wind and sought to smite the insolent man. But Emáten was keen with a sword and thrust his weapon in their path, gashing through the calloused hide though not without payment. The blade was blunted and the man's arms, though sturdy, strained against the crushing force of the collision. Emáten was thrown down and the wounded branch retreated, oozing putrid black sap.  
  
He sank the blade deep into trunks and hacked at bark, forcing himself forward. "Not a tree will stand! Bring me to my lords or not a tree will stand!" He thrust the blade into the earth and mutilated the fleshy roots, his feet planting firmly as he pushed ever on. "I will not fail them!" The man's eyes shone with deep fire and his blade cut clean, his heart blazing like a beacon in the night. He found a thin knot of a tree, the arched one that had assaulted Sam, and swung his mighty sword in a clean cleave against it's gnarled trunk. He had barely penetrated its rotten hide and he cursed, wishing he had wielded an ax.  
  
"Nothing but kindling you bewitched beasts of rot and wood!" he taunted taking another swing. He planted his boot against it's curved and wicked spine and heaved his weight against the bend. His hands tangled within the knots of climbing gorse as he hefted himself onto the arching back. It creaked and groaned horribly until a loud resounding crack issued forth and Emáten felt his teeth rattle as the tree jolted downward. He sprung off it's now broken and tortured back. "Show me to them or suffer!" The trees cursed foully and the voice of the tortured, dying tree sputtered wickedly, whining and moaning in its last agonizing moments of its wretched life. Emáten swung his sword above his head wildly. "I will not have you hinder me!" The forest trembled with anger and soon Sam's voice was allowed to meet Emáten's ears. The man could hear Sam struggling against some foe and he dashed in that direction. "I am coming my lords!"  
  
Sam kicked and flailed against Wormtongue but to no avail. The disgusting creature pinned his arms and legs and beat against his chest and stomach. The hobbit cried out more in anger than in pain. "Stinking, foul, ruddy vermin!" Sam spat in Grima's face and long fingers wrapped around his throat.  
  
It was then that Grima and Sam slowed in their struggle for uncouth laughter was rising from the fell wizard. He dropped Frodo to the ground once more and laughed at him, spitting in his face. Frodo whimpered and clung to the earth beneath him. "You have already paid for your sneaking deeds!" roared the wizard with great delight. "There is no hope for your weak little mind any longer, simple little creature." And then to Sam's great fury and disgust the crooked hand rose again and stroked Frodo's reddened cheek as if he were petting a young pup. But Frodo flinched and backed away as the foul touch met his skin. His wide and fearful eyes looked to the hand and then the owner and he trembled. "What fate more suiting? What punishment sweeter for Saruman's savoring? I think it just that one so foolish to contend with power far beyond his comprehension should lose all such comprehension!" Saruman grasped Frodo's hair again and stood him up onto his unsteady feet. Frodo quivered under the wizards stare and he stepped back unsteadily, too struck with fear to even run any longer. The fell wizard laughed and the sound was horrible to hear. "A foolish deed will make a fool!"  
  
Sam's eyes blazed in fury. He turned his head and bit at Grima's hands. He could find no purchase or advantage until the weight upon his stomach was finally relieved and Wormtongue hit hard against a tree with a shriek.  
  
Emáten was standing above Sam panting with feral rage as he saw the treatment of the Ringbearer. His eyes burned with pure fury and a gleaming sword was gripped in his stone still hands. When Frodo's eyes fell upon the sword he let forth a shriek and crumpled to the ground as if a great weight was pressed upon him and broke him in that instant; but this was heeded only by Sam.  
  
Flying forward, Emáten raised his sword and he moved swift. A voice issued forth from the man that turned the air cold as ice.  
  
"Son of a mongrel dog, may thy breath be purged and thy eyes be damned! Upon my sword now foulest of bent and wickedness! Mark my words that thy twisted bones will glisten in the morning sun and thy blackest of blood will curdle!" And he took forth an oath and named Varda witness that Saruman should die by the blade of Emáten in the end and the wizard's heart quailed.  
  
And it is said that the rage of the man was so great that he thrust down his weapon, though the wizard cunningly evaded, the mighty sword was struck upon the ground and split a very stone asunder! Lo! That he raised his blade and it shattered before the wizard and the man did not seem daunted, for he knew that his now halved blade could still bite deep and the wizard fell to his knees and cowered in fear.  
  
Too full of burning rage, Emáten did not see the black shadow coming until he was knocked on his side and Grima had scurried away in his cowardice. Saruman hissed and turned to Sam. "Your master has paid but you have not, Ringbearer and little urchin slave to an imbecile master!"  
  
"Aye I hope you burn in your own ruin! Run you rot of a snake and if ever I meet you again I shall have your throat flesh in my fingernails yet!" bellowed Sam, red with rage and panting with fury. Emáten hurried forward swinging his severed blade madly and howling every curse he knew and he plunged into the depth of the woods after Saruman. "May thy flesh burn and be torn from thy blackened bones by the greedy teeth of wolves! Damn thy twisted tongue! Upon my sword! Upon my sword! And carrion fowl shall devour thee!" Sam could hear his shrieks from near and far but it brought him no solace for the foulest of creatures still breathed and Sam would not rest easy until that was no longer true.  
  
He ran forward and grasped a swooning Frodo in his arms and rocked him gently, crying and cradling and kissing his forehead. "Oh my master! Me dear, I will have his blood on my hands yet!" Sam ran his hands through the twigs and dust in Frodo's hair and cleaned his face with his own tears. Frodo buried his face in Sam's chest and sobbed until he was utterly spent and shook and heaved in his arms. It was dusk when Emáten finally returned and sheathed his broken blade but he was silent and still shaking with fury.  
  
"I have failed you, my lord. Forgive me." He bowed his head and fell to his knees.  
  
"I know that nothing would suit your heart better than to see that mongrel beaten and bled. I did no better, Emáten. Let's go back." Emáten rose and took Frodo's swooning form from Sam's arms. They trudged back to camp the forest now whispering of the deeds that happened that day.  
  
When they returned they looked back and saw that every tree in the forest swayed and moaned and they exchanged fearful glances for what this might mean. But not a chance did their question get to form clearly before they were met by the fearful faces of Aragorn and Gandalf. "Treebeard received word of it all from the trees! Every tree in the forest is seeking Saruman but to no avail!" cried Aragorn with a quick glance towards Frodo.  
  
"He is cut and bruised but no worse," said Emáten. "If not frightened."  
  
"Frightened out of his wits and with good cause!" cried Sam. "I'll only be pleased when I kill that wizard with me hands!" Gandalf looked upon Samwise fearfully and saw a darkness in him that never existed before. Never had Sam spoken of killing before.  
  
Frodo was laid to bed and tended by the king and athelas steamed in a bowl by his bedside. The cool scent lifted the spirits of Sam and Emáten as they sat by Frodo's side and their brooding thoughts soon subsided but the everlasting mark of hatred forever marred their once gentle souls. Frodo cried and wept in his sleep but his wounds healed quickly under the hands of the king.  
  
Sam thought no more of Saruman's threat for dark threats of his own filled his mind. And it is said that since that day the name of Emáten was whispered in the forests of Fangorn as the man with a gleaming sword and fiery heart that tamed the forest to his will. The cloven stone remained ever after and when the sun shone nigh upon it silver shards could be seen embedded within its quarry.  
  
~~~  
  
A/N: Well I'm nearing the end of my prewritten stuff which means I'm going to need plenty of encouragement to sit in front of this computer and spit out chapter after chapter to get this finished. Think you guys are up to it? Hope so because a certain distraction (namely one boyfriend) will be coming home soon all nicely ripped from boot camp ;) So persuading me to sit in the dark hunched over a cold little machine will be difficult. ^^  
  
Frodo-lovers – I wish I was bilingual. Tolkien was a linguist but I find studying other languages very tedious. I'm glad you like the story!  
  
Eiluj – I hope you liked Fangorn in this too. I love writing about the forest, so descriptive, it's an author's dream.  
  
Ailsa Joy – Talk about description fests! Check this chapter out. But Fangorn is just so much fun! I hope you update soon. I'm sorry I was teasing about chapter 29 for so long and I ended up putting the part I was teasing about in this chapter. Oh well more suspense and I got to lengthen it with endless descriptions.  
  
CStinie – Yes you aughta slap Saruman! Grrr. Makes me angry too. Hah and I made it happen. ::wiggles typing fingers all god-like and omnipotent::  
  
ShireElf – Hope you like this chapter! Now I need to shelf out a few more chapter ::trembles:: Oh my poor hands! You guys are gonna have to really insight me to actually want to sit in front of this laptop and do this.  
  
Laurajslr – Your reviews are always the best! And now you're going to have to bring out the big guns/reviews to keep my incentive going! I like the way your story is developing keep up the good work. I was and still kinda am planning to leave ff.net once this story is finished but maybe I'll be persuaded by endless plot bunnies to do otherwise. I miss the real Frodo too which is why I'm working on a short little ficlet with him in it. I'll post it eventually.  
  
Stoneage Woman – Oh please write the sequel to "Just Don't Have The Heart To End It" I really love when my readers get their own ideas from my work. I feel all muselike. I like describing Fangorn and everyone seemed to like it too. Well I went on a spree in this chapter. I'm glad you like my fics. Most of them are old and not my best work. But it's all in refining my skills. Fanfiction is a great practice.  
  
Frodo-lovers – Yes dear unlucky Frodo. And things aren't really getting better for him are they?  
  
FrodoBaggins87 – Everyone like the forest scene. I hope the one in this chapter was just as well liked. I love having my style called Tolkienish a lot of people say so but I can see stark differences. Still it is my goal. I love his style so much.  
  
Tersa – Wow that's a lot of lotr to watch. Well I hope the ending of this wasn't so torturous. Nasty cruel wicked Saruman!  
  
Endymion2 – Yes there was a prophesy including him! Very observant there. I'm glad you noticed because this is just building up to it. Keep looking. I'll make things a bit clearer as we go along.  
  
Jet-1 – I wish I was reading the books again. Maybe after I finish the pile of books I am working on I can reread it. Heh. Hope you liked.  
  
Bookworm2000 – Yeah Fangorn fascinates me too. As you can see with the detailed descriptions. Heh.  
  
Smruti – Yes I take a long time. I'm sorry. But I hope it's worth it.  
  
Frodo's gal – Glad you're patient, hopefully I'll get to picking up the slack soon. 


	33. Farewells

Chapter 31 --- Farewells  
  
Small pale hands were shivering as they rested upon two larger weather worn ones. Aragorn knelt and looked up into Frodo's eyes, the simple hobbit trembled under that steady gaze. The king wrapped Frodo's frail hands within his own and bowed his head. "Frodo Baggins, you gave up much for the safety of my people and your own." Tears came to the man's eyes as he looked up again at the confused expression of the hobbit he sought to thank and knew it was all falling futilely on his ears. "With all the realms under my power, with all the men at my call..." Again Aragorn needed to turn away from Frodo's prying gaze and furrowed eyebrows. He sought so desperately to understand. "...All this would be upon its knees but for you... for your deeds. No man nor elf nor wizard nor king could have done what you have done... nor borne such a loss." Tears cascaded down Aragorn's cheeks and his voice trembled and croaked like that of a boy's. "I am in such great debt to you that all of my power, all of my subjects, all of my knowledge and strength and wealth cannot repay it... cannot give back that which you have lost. I will give you this meager reward though it cannot begin to repay you. Your Shire is now henceforth under the protection of the Kingdom of the North and of the South and all the lands between. No man shall ever enter your lands nor threaten your people. Not even I shall ever set foot upon the beloved earth of the Shire lest there be great need for your health and safety." Aragorn stood and looked upon the throngs of travelers. "Hear me now and my word is law! No man shall ever set foot upon Shire- earth under penalty dealt by my hand alone! Lest the Ringbearers or their kin be in need! And then only I shall send whom I chose! This is my will, let it be done!"  
  
No one drew breath nor did the breeze dare to stir until Aragorn, son of Arathorn, Dunedain and King of the North, the South and all lands between, fell again upon his knees before the Ringbearer and bowed his head deeply. Wielder of Anduril; the man who tamed wild spirits and set fire to the sorrow-sodden hearts of hopeless men; the man who defeated legions of blackness and charged first and foremost into the deep; the man whose heart knew no doubt; who's mind knew no weakness; who's hands spilled the blood of flesh-hungry beasts that coveted the heads of those he loved, fell down and wept into the childlike hands of one so small.  
  
In moments the entire company, men and elves alike were upon their knees, a gesture given by those who owed the deepest debt and knew it graciously. Frodo looked out among the crowd and saw his protector a few feet to his right looking about with just as much awe. But Frodo frowned, confused, and fell to the ground. He sat there and looked down at Aragorn, touching the man's face. The king looked up and saw tears in Frodo's eyes.  
  
Frodo leaned forward and placed a kiss upon the man's forehead, his lips pressed gently and tentatively as if somewhere deep inside there was a shaking certainty that this was what he must do. When Aragorn looked up there was a brief pause before the man lunged forward and encased the hobbit in a crushing embrace. He sobbed quietly and a loud cheer erupted throughout the crowd.  
  
~~~  
  
Merry looked at Pippin uneasily and the young Took just rolled his eyes. They stood restlessly a fair bit into the wood where Treebeard had set them upon a high stone slab that, to a tree, was a table but to a hobbit was a trap from which there is no escape. Pippin looked down at the far away ground and gulped. They could do nothing but nod and smile as Treebeard spoke to them and whenever they made to say that they must go soon they were quickly scolded for being hasty. Pippin sighed and rested his head on Merry's shoulder playfully. His cousin looked down at him but he just smiled up innocently.  
  
Treebeard seemed to have fallen asleep in mid-sentence again and Merry took this opportunity to clear his throat and step forward causing his cousin to stumble. He chuckled to himself lightly. "Treebeard! You offered us a drink?"  
  
"Now, not so hasty Master Meriadoc. You have already grown tall enough little masters. I wonder if you should wish to rival mountains."  
  
"Nay, dwarf them!" piped Pippin. "And crown our long, writhing curls with stars!"  
  
The old Ent chuckled and it seemed that all his leaves shook and whispered with mirth. "Ah here we are. It is often that I sip the rainwaters as they, hoom, gather and fall from my leaves. Cups and bowls are hard to come by, hoom, when your hands are gnarled as ancient roots. We do not, hoom..."  
  
Pippin yawned and fell to his bottom, stretching his long arms and legs. Merry once again rolled his eyes and blew a tuft of hair from his face.  
  
"...take skill in smithing. But often when one so dear should die from plague of insects or rotten orc-rats we do not wish to let them rot. Old wood curves well and gathers rainwaters and riverwaters to feed a parched young root. It is through death and sacrifice that some may live, and it must often be so."  
  
Merry blinked, now fully awake and listening to Treebeard's words but Pippin had nodded off long ago. "Thank you, Treebeard." Merry bowed deeply and took the curved wooden bowl. "I hope to honor whomever this may have been in life." He gave Pippin a rough nudge with his foot and the young Took shot to his feet and took the other bowl with thanks. They drank deeply and the hair on their heads writhed and curled and brushed their eyelids. They left that place smiling.  
  
"Farewell, Treebeard. I cannot begin to thank you for your kindness!" called Merry.  
  
"If you should ever meet up with the Entwives in your Shire..."  
  
"I shall keep both eyes open!" cried Pippin. "You should be informed at once!"  
  
~~~  
  
Aragorn kept his eyes on the soft turf beneath his feet, watching the passing dapples of sunlight as they seeped through the young saplings that had been newly growing from the filth of Saruman. It seemed the magic of the ents sped the growth of vulnerable young to a fragile beauty. Their first blooms of leaves and tiny white flowers quivered in the breeze and dripped the cool dews into tiny rivulets down their smooth trunks.  
  
The king saw the sunlight spread and knew to look up. Before him, among the peaceful budding that carpeted and fell bulwark of Saruman's stronghold, sat two hobbits, bathed in the pale sunlight. Sam was sitting, brooding darkly, with his knees bent and his arms resting limply on them. Frodo was sitting before him meticulously inspecting the blades of grass and wild buds. Whatever twisted iron rampart they sat upon could not be told for it was buried mostly beneath earth and growth, entangled in climbing vines, thick with leaves.  
  
Lower, on the ground, stood Gandalf, leaning gently on his staff, glistening pure white in the sunbeams. He was watching Frodo's ministrations with a furrow of his brows but seemed to know Aragorn had stepped into the glade.  
  
"It is good you have come, Aragorn. I would like you to check Frodo's wounds," said Gandalf, keeping an easy distance from Frodo.  
  
Sam frowned slightly, "Naught but scrapes and bruises, Mr. Gandalf. I checked myself and he seems to be getting along right enough."  
  
Aragorn smiled gently and strode forward. "That makes my job all the simpler then." He stepped up the short distance onto the rampart and knelt before Frodo. At first he was easily ignored, the grass being much more intriguing, but he was patient and inevitably Frodo's eyes rose to meet his. Quickly Frodo looked up and searched for Sam. Relieved to see that his protector was by his side, his attention returned to Aragorn suspiciously.  
  
"Has he been flinching at all, or favoring a certain hand or leg?" Aragorn asked Sam but kept his attention on Frodo as he grasped one of Frodo's arms to examine for any scratches that could have gone rotten.  
  
"No sir," answered Sam half-heartedly.  
  
Frodo's eyes widened in terror as his arm was held out. He remembered this. Something happened after his arm was presented in this way. A flash of terrible light in his eyes and then a gleaming object flaunting before him, wavering in the air for a heartbeat and then descending to glide across his skin and release the warm liquid from within. He went suddenly pale and began to tremble, jerking his arm from Aragorn's grasp and cradling it to his breast. He was quickly reminded of the shriveled bud in his pocket, black and pitiful, smothered in an instant and bereft of its vibrant beauty. A small aching whimper escaped Frodo as he darted towards Sam and hid his face against his protector's shoulder.  
  
"What have I done?" asked Aragorn fearfully.  
  
"I'm not sure," whispered Sam, wrapping his arms around his distraught master.  
  
"Will he..." Aragorn paused and felt a helplessness he'd never felt before. He stood and took a breath. "Will he be alright?"  
  
Frodo took a shuddering, breathy sob, and Sam saw that there were no tears of pain in his eyes. "Yes, as alright as he can be I suppose."  
  
Aragorn nodded and turned his face towards the sun, seeking some warmth in it. "And you, Sam?" He cocked his head and eyed Sam gently.  
  
"What about me?" Sam mumbled.  
  
"What bitterness do you withhold?"  
  
Sam just stared steadily at the man and was silent.  
  
"You wish terribly that these things that have changed had not. I know, many of us do. But would you then change yourself as well? There was a gentleness in you, Sam. I will not say that it was innocence, your suspicion of me disproved that, you were not a trusting fool at all. But you were not so harsh."  
  
"I will not speak of this," breathed Sam. "You ask me to shrug away what that miserable rotter's done to my master. I won't do such a thing."  
  
"I don't ask any such thing," replied Aragorn, sitting on the rampart. He reached up and took off his crown with a relieved sigh. He set it on his lap and smiled. "That thing is ridiculously heavy." Sam cocked an eyebrow but Aragorn went on. "And walking with it is much more complicated a task than I imagined. I always feel like it may slide right off my head or into my eyes and I'd look a fool." He threw his head back and laughed at his own worries. "Oh being a ranger was never so complicated!" he laughed. "Sometimes I would go days without sleep, camping in the rain or the heat of summer, and eating stale bread and mutton for a day's meal. Often I'd have no one to talk to but my horse and he was a stubborn beast." Aragorn paused briefly and sighed. "I miss it."  
  
Sam had no choice but to laugh. "That's the most backwards reasoning I ever did see, Strider sir."  
  
"Ah but now I have choices to make and not just for myself. If I choose a wrong road it won't be just me going a night in the rain without shelter. Where's the line between mercy and justice, Sam? When must I choose one above the other?"  
  
Sam's eyes darkened. "Mercy? Mercy for that rotten, wretched snake!"  
  
"I don't intend to show him mercy," said Aragorn with a note of finality. "I don't intend to. I will be sending a number of soldiers to scour the woods."  
  
"He's long gone from there," muttered Sam.  
  
"He will be hunted, Sam, like the wolf he is. And he will not know another day of peace or rest. He is stripped of his power, of his home, of any joy if he ever could partake of it in the past."  
  
"Only by the sufferin' of others," Sam spat.  
  
"And do you suffer, Sam? From the wretchedness you feel, from the anger that boils within, from the black thoughts your mind obsesses over, does it cause you to suffer? It will eat away at you from within, and Saruman would be pleased."  
  
Sam took a breath, ran his hands threw his hair a few times, and then pressed his palms to his face and wept.  
  
~~~  
  
After long preparation and Aragorn took leave of Frodo and Sam he sought out Galadriel and Celeborn. The elves were sitting alone and in silence for war had made Celeborn bitter and quiet and Galadriel saw she could not heal her husband. He had now become restless and the sea's call was far and distant in his shadowed mind, but she could feel the ocean spray yet upon her face. It would soon come for the time of their parting as well, and perhaps their end would be bitter and Celeborn would find only darkness in the rest of his days, the Lady of Light could not foresee. Her sight and thought only stretched beyond the glimmering seas and unto glittering white shores.  
  
"Elfstone!" smiled the lady coming towards Aragorn. "Your trials have been long and your burdens have been many but you have triumphed and bore them all and now in light you pass. You have earned now the life before you, use well these days for Arwen's love is now your greatest treasure in a kingdom of light."  
  
Aragorn bowed. "And yet my mind holds still darkness and doubt for Frodo."  
  
"Then you must speak to Arwen for she has woven her blessing into the threads of Frodo's fate and nothing more can be done. Wheels have already been set in motion and some fates for Frodo have proven untrue. He lives yet and it has been foreseen that he should die upon the mountain. We live yet and it has been foreseen that he should fail and his will utterly broken in the end by Sauron as he sat upon his throne."  
  
Aragorn shuddered. "My lady I wish not to know of these horrible fates that have not been and shall never be!"  
  
"It is what could have come to pass. Arwen knew of all these possibilities."  
  
"And what good is it, my lady? To know of these grievous horrors that I wish I had never known could have been! For they are not! And long past reckoning!"  
  
And then Aragorn beheld the light of Aman in the Lady's smiling face. "To show you, young Elfstone, what the world is really like." She placed a slender hand upon his cheek and it was warm and golden as the sun. "There is no certainty of the future so do not put your trust in visions of what it may be. Foresight is not a guide of deeds, simply a warning of such consequences as may come. There is no certainty but the one you make yourself."  
  
Aragorn's eyes filled with tears and he grasped the hand upon his cheek and held it desperately to his lips. "Thank you! Thank you! My lady, you have given me hope!"  
  
She laughed lightly. "Go now and be happy and fret not for your toil has rewarded you well."  
  
He turned in joy to Celeborn who simply looked upon him grimly and said, "Farewell! May your doom be other than mine and your treasure remain with you in the end!" Aragorn looked upon him with pity and bowed low. Then they departed swiftly for the sun was soon to set.  
  
~~~  
  
Sam was chuckling lightly. "Emáten, for the last time, please rise!"  
  
The man looked up blearily as if awoken from a swoon. He grasped Sam's hands and kissed his fingers. Sam blushed and pulled his hands away. "None o' that! You know I ain't used to no kingly treatment. I'm a simple gardener at no mistake. Last year I was pullin' carrots and plantin' daisies and that's my plan when I get home. You won't wanna be kissin' no ruddy dirt-hands of a gardener."  
  
"Sir!" cried Emáten. "I must beg of you to stop this madness of belittling yourself!"  
  
Sam stared at the man aghast for a moment then blushed again. "Aye, I think I reckon with ye. But I still would rather you not be bowin' and scrapin' for me."  
  
Emáten rose reluctantly and looked upon Frodo. "Oh, my lord. I wish that I could have truly met you before I left you. I am not worthy of such company- I- I do not wish that we must part! To my home I shall now fly and remember till the end of my days my time in the presence of the Ringbearers. And perhaps in time my children will sing your tales and know your deeds."  
  
"I shall remember you and your family fondly, Emáten. Tell your brother I gave him all my thanks and Frodo would as well. He tried to find me master, hard as anyone else did."  
  
"A dear soul, Envin is, he will be glad to hear of you again. Farewell, my lords! My allegiance is ever unto you. I regret that I may never see your Shire but it is my king's word. I shall never travel north I suppose."  
  
"I don't like to look too far into the future," said Samwise. "There ain't nothin' there I need to learn afore it happens."  
  
"My lord I dare not rest easy until I know that wizard is dead. I swear, by my honor, that he shall be killed by my blade. May my soul never find rest until my sword spills his blood. My lord I dare not rest easy until I know that wizard is dead."  
  
"I don't either, and that's a fact! But there is nothin' you can do, Emáten, and I don't ask any more of you. Swearin' an oath ain't good, you can get yourself into a mite of trouble. Take it back, it's too dangerous for you."  
  
"But it is of my own will. I shall hunt him!"  
  
"Do what you want to but you should rest. Go to your home and do not waste yourself away on lookin' for that foul rot. The king will send men for him I'm sure," answered Sam.  
  
"And I shall be one of those men! My lord, whether it is your desire that I go or not, it is my desire to be the one to kill him. He has done such a great injustice towards you and your master I shall not breathe easy until he breathes no longer."  
  
"Do not leave Envin alone," said Sam solemnly. "I know what you would do for me and I am right thankful for it! But your brother cares for you and your father and sister as well. You should not throw your life away seeking him, I know you would do that."  
  
"Very well." Emáten bowed. "But my oath has been taken, I dare not go back on it now."  
  
"Take care, Emáten. My master and I are thankful to you!"  
  
"Right, sir! Farewell!"  
  
~~~  
  
And at last the company was made to ride and the two great parties sundered into their dwindling last. Licks of golden fire lit the sky and the last flame of sunset flanked the rising mountains of the west with radiance. The dwindling company looked back upon the green hill and it was bathed in the sun's last light and upon it was a great company of horses and men whose armor shone like gold flame. Sam looked last upon Emáten as he gleamed in the sunlight and then turned his horse away until only the king remained. It was then that the light hit the white mantle of Aragorn burst like pale fire and surrounded him and his gleaming arm held up a green stone and it shone like a star and his steed reared so it caught the last flickering of the sunset and burst with green flame. And when the final licks of fire died away behind the mountains and the shadow of night covered Aragorn and his men had disappeared over the hill.  
  
~~~  
  
A/N: Just a note. If you are wondering what happened to Celeborn then I have to say... so am I! I took the opportunity to reread this section of the book to be more accurate with my work and Tolkien seems to put emphasis on Celeborn's hopeless despair. Shocked that I missed this, I further investigated the situation and saw that Celeborn did not accompany Galadriel to Valinor and instead spent the rest of his days in Mirkwood. As far as I know, this is completely unexplained. If anyone knows what Tolkien intended for Celeborn I'd be delighted to know. The line "Farewell! May your doom be other than mine and your treasure remain with you in the end!" was taken from the book. All that I can gather from it is Celeborn lost something during the War of the Ring and whether he was wounded deeply (much like the shell-shock Tolkien himself experienced) or simply never intended to go West and Galadriel forsook her love for him to do so, I'm not certain.  
  
It is thanks to all of your kind reviews that I am really trying to write more for this fic. You were all so kind to encourage me a little break I just have to disobey you ^^. You deserve chapters and regularly.  
  
Ailsa Joy – I knew you'd love it! Thank you for the lovely compliment but please don't be discouraged. After all you are the one that created Emáten and I just fell in love with him. This chapter was mostly dialogue and lacked a lot of description save some points that I could not help but going off on a tangent about. I hope you update soon.  
  
Yahiko - ::trembles:: Yes master!! ::writes madly:: Don't kill us precious we gives you lovely stories to read!  
  
Laurajslr – Indeed that was the highest praise you could offer me! ::blushes:: Thank you! This is by far your longest review but I won't say thank you again for that would be redundant ;) I'm glad you liked the "it was said" parts. I was a little uneasy about using that style since it might be a contrast from the style of the regular story. Too epic maybe but it was well received ^^. I'm glad I made you mad as Saruman as that was the purpose. Petting Frodo's cheek in mock gentleness was by far his worst insult. I don't plan to change our dear Samwise in the least bit! ::trembles:: I'd never do that to my favorite chapter. But I had to consider his ability to react to this treatment of his master. Don't worry I fixed Sam in this chapter see? ^^ Glad you loved Emáten, you should be seeing a bit more of Envin soon as well. And don't worry, I'm producing plot bunnies like rabbits on Viagra! I gave you a bit of the 'real' Frodo in my other fic I loved writing it! And now back to the simple Frodo ::sob:: Your encouragement for me to take a break has only incited me to write more for you ^^ And for my fic "Birthdays at the Green Dragon" Perhaps one day I'll write a fic explaining Frodo's deepest darkest secret. Mwa haha. As for Forod being a family man, I realize Tolkien stated quite plainly he was intent on being a bachelor but after seeing Frodo's reaction to Sam's child in the Return of the King I noticed that he would make quite the father. I plan to use Lilly Fairwater in another fic soon. Enjoy!  
  
ShireElf – Quite the desired effect. I am a loremaster now! Weee! I like seeing people's reactions to my small climaxes. Wait till you see the big one ^^  
  
Stoneage Woman – I hope you don't procrastinate too much with writing the sequel to "Just Don't Have the Heart to End It" I want to read it ^^ Hope you enjoyed this chapter.  
  
Bookworm 2000 – Tolkienesque? Thank you! ^^ That is the greatest compliment I can receive!  
  
Agent Pip – You will just have to read to find out if Frodo will be better again ^^ Review please!  
  
Frodo's Gal - ::whimper:: Frodo in distress, ripped boyfriend, Frodo in distress, ripped boyfriend ::sobs indecisively as boyfriend huffs angrily in the background::  
  
Tersa – Ramen? ::trembles:: Should I be afraid? Thank you for the compliment ^^  
  
Smruti – Thank you for encouraging me to take a break though I'm afraid it just incited me to write more as thanks for your concern. Keep practicing, if you look at some of my old fics you'll see they are awful compared to this. It's like working out to build muscles ^^.  
  
FrodoBaggins87 – My boy buddy is intent on surprising me when he comes home so I have no idea when exactly that will be grr. So for now I'll write like a mad woman.  
  
Galardriellady945 – Heh that was the reaction I was hoping to garner. ^^ Keep reading and reviewing.  
  
Frodo-lovers – I miss the real Frodo too, such a sweet lovely hobbit. Keep reading and I'll keep writing.  
  
Endymion2 – Cuddling a cold little computer over my boyfriend is not exactly what I had intended but since he is not yet home I can use the computer as a temporary replacement. I realized it sounded like an ancient saga, I was hoping that wouldn't be too odd or out of place. I'm glad you liked it! 


	34. Night

Chapter 32 --- Night  
  
Night was silent as it befell the wandering company and the stars shone in their cold twilight hovering above Middle-Earth. They had traveled long, deep into Dunland where no man dwelt and the landscape rolled beside them vast and empty. It was a pleasant country, gentle and untouched and a pale green grass there grew. The night was chill for September had fallen and the night shone silver upon the grass and in the sky and in the eyes of the travelers. Sleep was swift to wrap them in its warmth and the pale lamps flickered among the campsite. Sam was deep in dreams and for once he breathed easily with one arm slung around his master to grant some form of protection. But it was a futile gesture for Sam had said it himself, it was in Frodo's dreams that he was tormented, a place where none could protect him.  
  
The simple hobbit found no rest, only warmth against his protector, and he was not chilled that night. Frodo's clear eyes sought the world of night before him, and he sat up and trembled for darkness crept into his mind. He crawled forward away from his protector and cast his gaze upward to the stars. He rested on his haunches and gazed into the twinkling depths of night. Frodo held out his arm before his eyes and then clasped it to him quickly as a memory of a light seemed to flash before his eyes and the image of a gleaming blade filled his mind. He did not cry out but instead quailed and shrank into himself and closed his eyes. But this did not save him and again, now clearer, he saw a man clad in armor gleaming gold and aloft in his hand such a mighty blade that rose and caught the light of the setting sun to shine like fire and blood. The image did not stay but altered and the man became slender and his garb of white and the blade small and thin like a sliver of terrible light that pierced him.  
  
"What has brought me to this?" came a voice in Frodo's head and it was far and distant. "Lost among the mist and shadow." He closed his eyes against the pain and felt himself pressing through such a great cloud that his feet could not be seen beneath and the world seemed skyless, and groundless, and endless. His hands were flailing in front of him and the mist soon sought his eyes and blinded him. Every failing step was toward nowhere and if he turned back or in some other direction he would not know.  
  
"And you will be lost where they can never find you," came an echo of a voice long lost but so clear in his memory it seemed as if the words were newly spoken. And this time Frodo clamped his hands over his ears and shook his head. "Ever seeking purchase in a void beyond recall. You can never know joy if you do not understand it. You can never see a world you cannot recall. You can never know another if you do not know yourself. You can never live if you destroy me!"  
  
And darkness descended upon him and no amount of weeping could clear the mist from his eyes. Hopeless there he lie, under the pitiless stars, in a night of silence. Yet he was lifted and Frodo stirred and saw a light upon him and he squinted but could not recall what he saw and a sound so soft now reached his ears. "Frodo Baggins, look into the water." He was being carried and as the ground reached his feet once more, below him was the clear glass of a still pond. And staring back was a soft creature, with fair face and gentle eyes and a crown of dark curls flanked by moonlight.  
  
Frodo was trembling slightly and he reached out a hand but did not touch the creature. Instead he watched its movements, so careful and guarded. Behind him stood a tall creature of pale golden light and clad in moonlight. "You must stop believing that none of this pain is real, Frodo. You may be afraid but unless you accept this reality you cannot become a part of it." She was smiling sadly but she was not afraid nor was she threatening and Frodo paid no heed. The small creature in the pool moved with him and tears formed in its eyes, but when they fell he shivered and the glass rippled and Frodo turned away. Upon his cheeks were cold waters falling and he knew that they were tears. He looked upon the lady and did no more as he walked away from her, back to where he had come and all he wished then was to lie beside his protector and feel some warmth until the sky was bright again and things were not so dark and still. Her voice followed him and met his ears but he did not halt.  
  
"Do not fear yourself, Frodo Baggins, you will have to confront him in the end."  
  
Frodo seemed to pause but then his eyes rested upon his protector and he lay down and lifted the arm around his shoulders once more and tried to melt away the images of blood and blades in his head.  
  
~~~  
  
Sam awoke as the soft light of morning touched his face. It had been a long time since he slept well and woke of his own desire, like rising from deep and peaceful waters. He had the sudden feeling of being in Lothlorien and thought that the Lady had aided his sleep. He was right for the most part, for that night she watched over the hobbits instead of taking council with Gandalf and Elrond. Sam turned quickly to see Frodo resting beside him, his eyes open and watching the sky brighten. His brow seemed furrowed but a relieved look came upon his face as the world once again was lit with morning.  
  
"Mr. Frodo?" ventured Sam, almost as if a wisp of hope entered his heart. But Frodo just turned to him at the sound of his voice and smiled faintly. It was a wonder to Frodo, something he had noticed in the passing of days, marked by the waxing and waning of light and when it waned and the world fell into a deep darkness all became still as if the world was holding its breath until the rise of the sun. The times when the light flickered and died filled Frodo with dread for as the world became still fell creatures did not and they wandered and phantoms touched his memory and sent chills within him. He could feel the edges of his mind burning with a fire that was quenched only by daylight and the softness of his protector's voice.  
  
Sam put a hand to Frodo's cheek. "Right then!" he cleared his throat and sat up. Frodo followed. "We best be going, sir. The road before us is still a long one and all I want now is the Shire beneath my feet." Sam gathered his bits and things and tied them to the pony.  
  
As the company traveled that day much was silent and Sam's thoughts were on Emáten and the strongest images he could recall of the gentle, clumsy man brought fear to his heart for they were mighty and terrible and all too grand for the simple gardener. Emáten was a kind soul though somewhat clumsy and far too polite, but what Sam had seen of him that day in Fangorn sent chills through him. And it was because of him and Mr. Frodo that this was brought out the in the man. Sam felt a shudder go through him and realized suddenly what the name of Frodo meant to so many now.  
  
Merry and Pippin had found their way to Frodo and Sam and rode quietly beside them. Sam did not say much but he saw that each looked around and kept their hands on their swords. They had heard of what Saruman had done to their cousin from Treebeard, and it hardened something within their hearts. Pippin was rigid and quiet, his keen eyes watching the landscape. Sam had never seen the hobbit so grimly somber. Merry was bent over his small horse and gripping the hilt of his sword tightly. Sam had never seen him so cold. They felt distant to him and they filled Frodo with a tight apprehension. Sam could feel his master pressing into him and heard a slight sob in the back of his throat, he had not the heart to tell his cousins what their presence did to him. The gardener just pressed an arm across Frodo's chest and hushed him quietly, murmuring a soft song or any old thing that came to mind. His voice seemed to ease Frodo.  
  
They traveled long until Sam heard a cry from Pippin and Merry rode near him. "What is it, Pip?"  
  
"There, along the hills to the east. A shadow is moving, he looks like a bent old man, see his walking stick?"  
  
"I see, Pip."  
  
"Should we leave Frodo and Sam and pursue?"  
  
Sam listened to their whispered conversation intently but he offered nothing. He wished to kill the wizard himself, very deeply, but he dared not leave Frodo's side to do so. It would frighten his master so. Merry seemed to be thinking, then shook his head. "As much as I want him dead, cousin, I dare not risk to leave. If he comes, then let him come." Merry moved his sword out of its sheath stealthily and hid it in his cloak. He then turned his steed and once again took his place as sentinel at Sam's left. Sam took this opportunity to lean towards Merry: "Just to be lettin' you two conspirators know, if Frodo should see your fancy sword there I think his heart just might stop."  
  
Merry's face looked aghast and he seemed to press his hand deeper into his cloak to conceal what he held. "Sam, what? Why?"  
  
"He's affrighted of blades more than anything and that's a fact, Mr. Merry," said Sam grimly and his tone was one of finality.  
  
"You're serious," answered Merry and once again sheathed his sword. He took one last look at Frodo who avoided his steel grey eyes and trembled against Sam. "I will not leave though, if Saruman may be near."  
  
"Stay then, I don't think Mr. Frodo is that scared of you, sir."  
  
Merry cast a glance at him with teary eyes, he clenched them shut and took a shuddering breath. "He scared, Sam, that's all I know. He was never scared, he was never this way. I said I'd follow him to whatever end, even if it broke my heart. If I'm nothing else I'm this... devoted to my cousin... true to my word."  
  
Pippin first watched Sam and Merry but his gaze was always drawn towards Frodo. He closed his eyes and tried to recall any image of his cousin before they left the Shire, any image at all. He nearly smiled at the thought of his cousin sitting upon the crest of a green hill, the sun shining golden through his crown of curls and his mischievous smile half hidden in the mystery of whatever elegant prose he happened to be reading that day. He would laugh aloud or sing something fair and fine or even comical. He would swing in trees and tell them stories and speak with a silver tongue and a cunning wit. He was slow to anger but he was no stranger to the occasional scuffle, never the one to start but always the one to finish with honor yet no pride. He loathed to fight, preferring good friends, good food, and good tales around a fire. He was a horrible cook and admitted it happily, crediting Sam to all the good meals. He taught Pip how to fish but was always overprotective of him when they were near the water. He never spoke to Pippin like he was a child and he snored when he slept. He...  
  
Pippin felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Merry looking at him worriedly. It was then that the young Took realized tears were upon his cheeks and he turned away quickly. "Why.." muttered Pippin but he had no more to say.  
  
"It's getting late. We ought to make camp soon." Merry rode ahead a bit and Pippin turned to see Frodo nodding off against Sam, his eyes fluttering in some dream and his mouth partially open. With the rise and fall of his small chest Pippin heard a soft sound. He smiled slightly. "He's snoring."  
  
~~~  
  
Pippin was ill at ease for the rest of the night. He lie awake, wondering, and watching the stars wheel overhead. He wondered, by the sounds of his breathing, if Merry was awake or not. Pippin dare not wake him if he was asleep for he was very restless that night and did not wish to bother Merry who had seemed weary of late.  
  
But Merry was far from sleep and staring coldly at the veil of night remembering old wounds and shivering slightly. He thought most of all, as he gripped his numb and freezing arm, of Frodo and his Morgul wound. He wondered if it plagued Frodo still as the Black Breath plagued him. He also wondered what Frodo would make of it now and how unfair it seemed for him to suffer a wound he could not remember receiving. His keen ears heard a rustling beside him and knew Pippin was not awake. Merry somehow cringed at the sounds as they were magnified due to his acute awareness. He had thought that this perhaps was some benefit towards the horrible wound but it only offered a painful annoyance. Still, he used it to listen for any other movements in the night, his heart seething towards Saruman and what the fell wizard had done to his cousin.  
  
The slight tossing and turning of Peregrin was quickly driving Merry mad and he could concentrate on naught else until finally he could withstand it no longer. "Peregrin Took!" Merry sat up rigidly. "How can a hobbit sleep with your constant figitting and burrowing? Right beside me like a nasty little squirrel trying to scratch his way into my head!" Merry brought up his shaking hands and dug into his own curls viciously, his dark eyes boring into the young Took.  
  
Pippin jumped at the sound of Merry's voice and shuddered. "Very merry you are, cousin, during the day, but the cloak of night brings out a foulness in you!" muttered Pippin.  
  
"As you." Merry retorted, snatching more of his blanket and turning his back on Pippin.  
  
But the insistent Took was not easily put out. "Perfectly sane we seem in the daylight but at night the madness is plain as my nose."  
  
"So goes for all who saw the Dawnless Day and learned to loathe the night," Merry mumbled, not turning around.  
  
"I like the stars," whispered Pippin. "And the moon."  
  
"Until they cast their light on your mad cousin," growled Merry. "Then you speak of fair and foul and day and night and wish I were still in the dark."  
  
"No I don't."  
  
"Then leave an old hobbit be. To sleep with you now."  
  
Pippin went silent but did not fall asleep. Merry could feel his cousin's stare for a while and suddenly began to feel remorse. "Pip," he said softly. "Do you remember when you were afraid of the dark?"  
  
"No," answered Pippin haughtily. Merry smiled and sat up. He slung an arm over his cousin's shoulders and Pippin just looked at him guiltily. "Well, maybe. But I was young."  
  
Merry chuckled and eyed his cousin with a bit of scrutiny. "You still are." He gave his little cousin a squeeze and Pippin gave a sigh of relief.  
  
"You were mean to me when we were little," said Pippin feigning hurt.  
  
"Yeah," answered Merry, sincerely apologetic.  
  
"But not when I came into your room that night I stayed in Buckland. You let me crawl on your bed and wrapped me in my blanket and you kissed the top of my head and promised you wouldn't let me get lost in the dark."  
  
Merry smiled then added, "Yeah and then I made you promise not to tell anyone about it. Thanks for keeping that under wraps, Pip, if anyone ever learned I was going soft I'd..."  
  
"Actually..." squeaked Pippin, sheepishly. He found himself suddenly shoved and Merry was gaping at him.  
  
"Who did you tell?"  
  
Pippin's grin suddenly faded. "Frodo."  
  
There was a long moment of silence before Merry moved closer and put his arm around Pip's shoulders again, squeezing him tight. "I was ten," Pippin began again. "It was when I slept at Bag-End, Frodo didn't know much about children really. So that night when he let me lay in his bed like you did, I told him. I don't remember what he said first off, but he seemed, well, proud of you, Merry. So very proud. Later, and this is all I really remember, he said to me, 'Pippin-lad, you keep an eye on Merry, he's going be some magnificent hobbit, you wait and see.' Frodo was never wrong, Mer. And I never expected him to be, Mer... Merry?"  
  
Merry had hunched over, sliding his arm bonelessly from around Pippin's shoulders. He lifted his shaking hands and rubbed his arms across his eyes a few times. "Merry?" Pippin whispered again when he saw his cousin's back begin to shake with silent sobs. He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Merry, laying his head on his cousin's back.  
  
There came a loud, sniffling intake of breath from Merry and the next sobs that escaped him were not silent, his voice rising in his grief. He sniffed again and Pippin sat up, scrounging for his pocket-handkerchief. He offered it to Merry, sniffling a bit as well, but the handkerchief was left unaccepted. Merry wept for a long while as Pippin held on to him tightly and pressed his cheek to his back. Finally when the sobs subsided and Pippin thought he would finally drift off to sleep Merry sat up abruptly, grasping Pippin so he would not fall over.  
  
"I hate the night," he spoke coldly.  
  
"I wonder what happens to Frodo and Sam at night," mumbled Pippin, looking at the ground.  
  
"I am loth to think."  
  
"Now who wishes no light was shone on the truth of night?"  
  
Merry clenched his eyes shut a moment then opened them reluctantly. "But I would like to see them. I hate being apart, even though it isn't that far. I can almost see them over there."  
  
Pippin nodded. "Yes, let's go see Frodo and Sam."  
  
Pippin peered through the brush to the small clearing where Frodo and Sam slept. Near them were little lamps flickering and elven guards at their posts, but far enough for the lamps to strive like tiny points of light in the darkness. Merry glanced at Pippin, both knowing that these were elves of Lorien and it was most likely Galadriel's wish that they be near.  
  
Pippin took in a breath and stepped forward. He wondered if the elves knew he and Merry were approaching. Perhaps they did but cared not for the doings of hobbits and watched solely for the fell wizard. The young Took could hear his cousin's steps behind him but did not turn. He could see Frodo leaning forward, rubbing ferociously at his arms, then clutching them too him in fear. Pippin frowned and took a few steps closer, he could see the desperate pleading look in Frodo's eyes.  
  
Frodo gasped slightly as he heard Merry and Pippin approaching and he inched closer to his sleeping protector. Merry chuckled lightly. "It seems Samwise has no trouble finding sweetness in dreams."  
  
"It seems odd. Sam was not getting rest for a long time. Remember the redness to his eyes. I know he had very few pleasant nights. But now he is wholly encased in slumber." Pippin looked down at Sam who was resting utterly in peace, his hands pillowed under his cheek and his soft breaths even and calm.  
  
"I know what you think, cousin, but if it is an uncouth will that aids Sam's sleep he would seem more troubled I suppose. And the elves of Lorien are all about. No one shall bother our cousin this night."  
  
Pippin frowned doubtfully at his cousin but then looked back to Frodo. "He looks scared, Mer. And I think his arms hurt him, as strange as that sounds..." Pippin scratched his head curiously, "or itch him..."  
  
Merry shook his head. "I don't know." He bent down and grasped Frodo's shaking wrists gently. He held it out to see but Frodo squirmed and snatched his arm back in terror.  
  
"Oh Frodo! What's wrong?" cried Pippin in despair.  
  
"Shh!" hissed Merry. "You want to scare him any more than he already is?"  
  
"I want Frodo back."  
  
Merry bit his trembling lip. "I know... I do too."  
  
Pippin bit his lip. Merry had known Frodo longer than all of them. He had grown up with Frodo. Pip remembered Frodo telling of the time Merry threw a tantrum when Frodo was going to move to Bag-End, much to the proud Brandybuck's embarrassment.  
  
Merry turned his tearful eyes toward his trembling, simple cousin. "You were my hero before you ever bore the Ring, Frodo. I don't think you ever knew how much I looked up to you... what I was willing to do to protect you. I wanted to stay by your side even when I knew what sort of danger you were getting yourself into. I refused to be left behind and I somehow lost you any way."  
  
Merry stepped forward and knelt before Frodo. Like a stab in the Brandybuck's heart Frodo flinched as Merry raised his hand to touch his face. His hand stopped and then simply pushed back a wild, dark curl that was straying into Frodo's face. Frodo opened his eyes again and just stared at Merry unsure what to do. Merry watched the curl bounce back defiantly and chuckled through his tears as a memory surfaced.  
  
~~~  
  
"Come now Frodo! You are almost a grown hobbit, time to start taking care of yourself. Now sit still and let me trim that crop of yours," Esmeralda scolded.  
  
"Ah, Auntie Esmie," chuckled Frodo as he twirled one of his unruly curls with one hand and snatched up an apple with another. "I could stand here and chat with you about my hair until the stars fell out of the sky but..."  
  
"Your excuses won't get you out of this one Mr. Baggins."  
  
"Excuses, beloved Auntie? I wouldn't dream..."  
  
"Sweet talkin' won't do it either." Merry watched the two for a while and then huffed and crossed his arms anxious for his cousin to teach him how to fish.  
  
"I hate to leave my dear cousin waiting!" And with a swoop Frodo had little Merry pig-a-back and tossed the apple back to Esmeralda. "Perhaps a later date, Auntie."  
  
"Mr. Baggins!"  
  
~~~  
  
Merry closed his eyes and turned away from Frodo more out of a desire not to further frighten his cousin than scorn. "Come on Pip. I'm afraid that if we stay a moment longer Frodo will wake Sam."  
  
Pippin slung an arm around Merry's shoulders and stole another glance at a trembling Frodo before he began to lead Merry away. "We miss you, Frodo," he whispered.  
  
The two small soldiers disappeared from whence they came and Frodo crawled forward a few paces, watching them as they went. There came a sudden voice behind him and he squeaked and spun around. There stood the golden lady and Frodo watched his protector curl up more into his blankets and sigh contentedly at her presence. But Frodo did not like this creature and he backed away slowly.  
  
Galadriel closed her eyes remembering Frodo's initial unease towards her when they first met. Her thoughts whispered gently in his mind but this only made Frodo more nervous as he tossed his head from side to side and clamped his hands over his ears.  
  
"No! No more voices!" came a faint thought in his own mind but even the lady did not hear it. Too far and too deep was the true Frodo Baggins.  
  
"I cannot save you, Frodo, nor hear your thoughts whither they are now. The Ring was too cunning. The only one that can save you now is yourself." She bent and ran her hand along Sam's side. "I hope I have offered you some comfort, Sam Gamgee, for Legolas told me of your trouble in sleep." She said this aloud and Frodo stopped backing away wondering what she was doing to his protector. But he had no time to become angry or frightened for she turned and disappeared into the night.  
  
~~~  
  
A/N: I know this was rather uneventful for such a long wait, it was just more of a look on Merry and Pippin's characters since I don't want to neglect them. And I'm sorry to say the next chapter will be short but hopefully eventful enough. Like I said, I've reached the end of my prewritten stuff so the task now seems greater. Another person has taken me up on my challenge for "Just Don't Have the Heart to End It" So wonderful! Take a look. It is by Stoneage Woman, story entitled, "Finding the Heart to End It" A very sad conclusion piece. Go, read, review, we authors thrive on it so!  
  
Frodo's Gal – It's alright, I can see why you are impatient. I, for one, am very impatient to see the reader reaction to my ending! But it's more fun to get reviews about what is currently happening and what the reader thinks will happen. It shows me if I'm being too obvious, or cryptic, or where my writing is leading you. I hope you are enjoying this fic.  
  
Laurajslr – Yes evil plot bunnies! You may check my bio, I have updated it though I'm not sure if it will show yet. Now containing a short little blurb on exactly why I started with all this writing business. The first scene with Aragorn was difficult to write, I didn't want it to be too sappy. I plan to put a dire amount of emphasis on Frodo remembering Envin's treatment. It is a very obvious clue ^^ shhh I have given away too much! Expect to see just a little bit of Envin in the next chapter. Enjoy!  
  
Yahiko – It's "watches" and "psychotic" just so you know. And yes schools are evil. Bloody waste of time if you ask me. Glad you liked the chapter, and that you have so chosen to spare this plebian author's life. I'll just drag out this story to keep myself alive now. ::trembles::  
  
AilsaJoy – Heh I love your email address. I liked Pippin's line in the last chapter too. Expect to see our dear Envin in the next chapter, just a little bit anyway. And when do you plan to update your story, huh? ::taps foot impatiently::  
  
FrodoBaggins87 – Well you're in for a long wait. I suggest you enjoy each chapter as they come, very sorry about that but you see Yahiko ::points up to other reviewer:: has threatened to end my life. Gotta drag things out to spare myself ^^.  
  
ShireElf – I love to keep things as Tolkien intended them as best I can while still using my own original ideas. I hope you enjoy!  
  
Endymion2 – Oh my, I hope I did not dismiss them too easily. I tried to spend a decent amount of time on the partings of all the characters. Also what does IMHO mean? I have seen it in your other reviews before but I'm afraid I'm not sure what it means. Also I forgot to respond to another part in your last review. Yes, we Americans are often loth to learn anything other than English though I wish it were not so. There is much to be gained from learning other tongues.  
  
Cstini – Yes shame on you. Hope you are still enjoying the story though ^^ 


	35. Council

Chapter 33 --- Council  
  
Envin collapsed onto his cot and sighed heavily. He closed his eyes that seemed to be burning to do so for so long. His weary body sunk into the stiff mattress as he buried his face and welcomed a deep, dreamless slumber that always came after such exhaustion. He had been working doubly for weeks now, trying desperately to stabilize his current patients and train his replacement. He had been intending to ride swiftly to Sam and beg him to reconsider returning home, even tell the hobbit precisely what he saw in these visions that plagued him endlessly. He did not care what he had been told any more, the images were too frightening, the message too clear, "If Frodo returns to the Shire he will meet his doom."  
  
He had been warned, he knew, not to use the vision as a guide of deeds, that it could be deceiving, but how could this be misinterpreted? He knew clearly what he saw and heard. Frodo being grasped by the neck, held up as he writhed and choked, and then thrown into something... it always ended with one small foot protruding from a pile of jagged spikes of wood, limp and completely unmoving, not a twitch not a tremble. Envin considered the possibility of Frodo surviving this but it was also likely that he would die. After all why would he have a vision of a simple accident if it was not so much more?  
  
Envin quivered with a sudden thrill, the sweat on his skin turned cold and his bones stiffened. Yes there was more to this vision... so much more. He could not let this happen. Trembling, Envin rose onto his elbows and groaned. There was still much more to do before he could make ride.  
  
~~~  
  
"Mithrandir, something must be done for Frodo. This company is dwindling and we must soon sunder once more, the hope for Frodo is fading."  
  
"You said yourself that you had not the power to find him, and my power is too great for him to bear."  
  
"It seems, my friends, that the power of the three rings has diminished."  
  
Galadriel, Gandalf, and Elrond sat in a circle, taking council from one another for the last time in Middle-Earth. The three wisest, those who had their hands in shaping the fate of Middle-Earth ever since its creation, the eldest and most powerful, the rulers of kingdoms and races, the guardian wizard, the warrior and healer, the guiding wisdom, sat side by side as they often did when the doom of the world was theirs to prevent, and they worried long over the fate of one hobbit.  
  
The warrior and healer spoke first with doubt. "I have done all I can for Frodo, this is not like to his Morgul wound, this is much deeper and no wound of the flesh, his mind is his own and not mine to interfere with, it could destroy him if I try."  
  
The guardian wizard spoke next with foreboding. "I cannot go near Frodo, my power is too like to Saruman's, he cannot bear it, it is like a boon of death too him. Would I try to seek him, he should despair. I will follow the path of the Hobbits, past Rivendell, but I shall not enter the Shire, there are things there that must be set to rights, my presence will be of no aid I fear. Tell me, Lady, your grand-daughter has seen much of Frodo's fate when she forsook her immortality, what is it that she has seen?"  
  
The guide and wisdom spoke lastly and she with desperation. "I know not, for she has not suffered to speak of it to me. I think she wishes to bear the pain of Frodo's fates alone, as he did bear the Ring, for she spoke to me of this and this only: Her mortality pains her, unlike the deep sorrow of the immortal curse of elves, it is a pain that flows with joy like the currents of the sea flow with an undertow, she spoke to me of a joy she had never known before and that I have known only once and will not know again in Middle-Earth. Before the curse of immortality was beset upon the elves I had known it and now she is free to bask in it, for however short it may be compared to the lives of immortals. Her pain is borne by mourning of the loss of Frodo's life, now that she is mortal she truly understands how precious and fleeting this thing is and that Frodo knew very well that he was relinquishing something he'd never be given back. He felt its loss keenly even when he accepted his doom at the council. I do not think that Arwen will ever understand what sort of strength it took for him to do so. And so she seeks to bear Frodo's fates alone, so that she may understand."  
  
"Then only she knows and I trust her with this burden," whispered the healer.  
  
"But that leaves us hopeless to help him," said the guardian.  
  
"Given there was actually anything we could have done to help him at all, even if we did know," answered the guide.  
  
"Perhaps we are helpless in this matter. Perhaps there is nothing in our power to save him. Perhaps my daughter knows this."  
  
"It is a strange feeling and, dare I say, a new feeling. In all the years I have known, the generations I've seen past, there was always a part that I must play. What now, do I do, if I have none?"  
  
The guide smiled and laughed lightly. "Relax, Gandalf. In all these years, someone had to say it to you. Relax."  
  
~~~  
  
Sam shielded his eyes against the magnificent blaze of the sun, shimmering on the great sheets of white snow and ice as they thrust up the horned peeks of Caradhras, Celebdil, and Fanuidhol, the Mountains of Mist. And rightly named they were for their proud summits pierced the very sky like a dagger of ice, jutting through the fine haze of clouds. Like citadels of crystal glass they glimmered, mightiest of wonders this side of the sea.  
  
"The Misty Mountains," Sam mused, partly with awe and partly with scorn. "I don't rightly like that Caradhras. It nearly booted us off last time round and if it had any boots I'm sure it would have done just that."  
  
Merry chuckled, "Sam we've got to get home somehow."  
  
"Not by that route, if I have a say in it."  
  
"I doubt you do," answered Pippin. "But I'd be behind you all the way, Sam. That part of the trip was most awful."  
  
"What about being dragged through the countryside by uruk-hai?" offered Merry, rubbing the brown scar that still marked his forehead.  
  
Pippin rubbed a remembered crick in his neck. "Well that was equally horrendous."  
  
"And being chased through Moria, dark and dank that place was, and crawling with orcs no less," muttered Sam.  
  
"Don't remind me of that," cried Pippin.  
  
"And the Barrow-downs!" laughed Merry.  
  
"The Ringwraiths on Weathertop," smiled Sam.  
  
"And those miserable bogs," Merry continued.  
  
"And what did you think of the Black Gate, Mr. Pippin?"  
  
"Enough!" Pippin cried, clutching his ears. "Fine, it was a horrible holiday, one of the worst, remind me not to do it again next year."  
  
Sam and Merry chuckled. "Ah, cousin, there were many fine and fair places to see as well. Remember the beauty of Lothlorien."  
  
"Like a living dream, that was," said Sam timidly. "Such magical things were there and the flowers were like none I never seen before. Like stars of gold all carpeting the hills and grass."  
  
"What were they called, Sam?" Pippin asked.  
  
"Elanor," he sighed with a slight smile.  
  
"Sam," whispered Merry. "I think Frodo wants to get down from the pony. Let's ride back to the camp and tie them up, then we can have some supper."  
  
Pippin beamed. "Now that's a good idea!" He turned his pony and descended the small hillock at a brisk trot. Merry chuckled and followed. Sam took another look at the Misty Mountains. Their road would soon lead around the base of the mountains, past the gates to the mines of Moria, then to backtrack all along the countryside of Hollin until they once again reached the Last Homely House. Sam sighed and turned away, loth to make this next goodbye to the elves of Lorien but also anxious to get home.  
  
"Something's going on back home," muttered Sam. "I don't like the feel of it, but Saruman was hinting too much for me to overlook. Something is definitely up, and I don't like the smell of it one bit."  
  
Sam's thoughts were interrupted as Frodo began to struggle with more force behind him. Frodo's fear of the pony was becoming a great hindrance to the journey home and going down the small hill only seemed to worsen things. Sam decided to stop and help his master off so that they may walk the rest of the way without any further accidents. Frodo quickly scrambled to one side of the pony and pushed off almost taking Sam to the ground with him. Sam grasped him tightly and held him up until he regained his feet.  
  
"You should learn to wait for me, Mr. Frodo," said Sam as he dusted off his master. "I'm not going to let you fall no more."  
  
Frodo was staring at Sam with a frantic pleading gaze as he rubbed at his arms furiously as if he were deathly cold.  
  
"What is it, master? What's ailing you?" Sam grasped Frodo's hands in his own and stayed them gently. "You're making your skin all red and sore, just let it alone." He looked at Frodo's afflicted arms curiously but found no irritation or wound. In fact he couldn't even see a slight scar that he thought was most likely to form after Envin's treatment. "He's an excellent healer," mused Sam. "Naught a scar nor a scratch left on you, sir."  
  
Not a scar of the flesh could possibly be seen on Frodo's arms but the memory was forever streaked across his mind's eye. Not only the memory of the times the knife gleamed in his eyes nor the times it glided against his skin, but the time it had done so to his protector. That seemed to frighten Frodo most of all.  
  
Frodo grabbed Sam's wrist desperately and ran his hands along the younger hobbit's arm. Again no scar could be detected and Frodo let it go. "Come on, sir, I bet you're hungry."  
  
~~~  
  
The council of the wise watched the four hobbits chat quietly while they ate. Gandalf chewed on the end of his pipe thoughtfully. "Arwen has seen the fate of Frodo," he mumbled. "But what of his kin. Meriadoc, Peregrin, and Samwise are loyal to him, what is this doing to them?"  
  
Galadriel shook her head. "It is too much to ask when I tell you to relax isn't it?"  
  
"He worries more about hobbits than he let's us know," chuckled Elrond.  
  
"They have grown on me," smiled Gandalf fondly.  
  
"Like the charms of children," laughed Galadriel.  
  
Gandalf huffed and eyed Pippin as the hobbit stood on his tiptoes next to Merry as they were trying to determine who was taller. "More like an irritating fungus," grumbled the wizard. "At least the Tooks anyway."  
  
"Gandalf don't say such things!" laughed the Lady. "You cannot deny you love the rascal."  
  
Gandalf just grumbled and continued to chew on his pipe. Elrond stood up and watched Frodo intently. "Look," he whispered. "Look at what he is doing. He has been doing that since he ran into Saruman in Fangorn. What do you make of it, Mithrandir?"  
  
The wizard narrowed his eyes as he watched Frodo clutch his arms close and rub them slightly. "I wonder if he's come across an irritating leaf while he was in the forest."  
  
Galadriel closed her eyes and attempted to see what Frodo saw. She waited a long time but all her mind's eye could see was a thick, confusing mist. "I do not know, Mithrandir."  
  
Elrond shook his head. "I have been examining the hobbit ever since my son- in-law parted from us. There is no irritation on his skin. I think, what we are seeing are the effects of a memory. Envin's treatments were always directed on Frodo's arms, most likely because he could easily avoid any major veins..."  
  
"What do you mean, Elrond," interrupted the Lady softly.  
  
"What if he remembers?"  
  
Gandalf watched Frodo more intensely. "Even if he does remember, what good will it do him?"  
  
"If he can remember that, then perhaps we can make him remember more."  
  
Galadriel stared at Elrond and she felt her heart beat quickly with hope. "Could you do that, Elrond? Could you bring Frodo back?"  
  
Gandalf immediately shook his head doubtfully. "You cannot force anything on him. If you force, he will break. There is no force when it comes to such matters. You see what my very presence does to him."  
  
"Are you suggesting that he does not even try?" asked Galadriel fearfully.  
  
Gandalf sighed heavily. "This is a dire choice, Elrond. If you choose to try you must understand the consequences. We could push him beyond repair. Whatever hope there is now would be lost. Frodo would be lost."  
  
"Is it worth a try then?" asked the Lady, frantically looking from Gandalf to Elrond.  
  
"I do not know," said Elrond thoughtfully. "I have spoken of this long with Aragorn and he too was unsure."  
  
"My Lady, didn't you say yourself, that you thought only Frodo could beat back the shadow in his mind?" asked Gandalf.  
  
"Yes. But perhaps he needs help. Perhaps something must push him forward."  
  
"And right over the edge?" cried Gandalf.  
  
Elrond stood up quickly. "And if we don't, what then, Mithrandir. Condemn him to a life of ignorance? Death is a better fate."  
  
"Is that the fate Arwen foresees?" whispered the wizard.  
  
"I told you I do not know, but I trust my daughter."  
  
Galadriel stood to join the elf and wizard. "I told Estel that fate was whatever we made it to be. And you tell me now we can do nothing but watch it play out."  
  
"No," whispered Gandalf. "I tell you that you should trust to Frodo. If he is still the same Baggins I knew, he will find a way."  
  
~~~  
  
A/N: The plot doth thicken! Heehee. I have fallen behind with my writing, probably because someone who shall remain nameless has cursed me with wicked little plot bunnies! Eeee! They're everywhere. For those of you who have read "Birthdays at the Green Dragon" and have been wondering exactly what the heck Frodo did not wish Merry to say about him, I'm working on an explanation for that as well.  
  
Cstini – Yes ponder away as I'm sure this chapter has left you a lot to think about. I love character bonding too, hobbits are just the most wonderful creations of all time!  
  
Arwen Baggins – I most definitely will take a look at that site. I'm glad you're still keeping up with this story, I need all the support I can get right now. I have fallen too far behind and this chapter has left much to be desired.  
  
Stoneage Woman – I love Merry and Pippin almost as much as Frodo and Sam and I'm afraid I don't give them enough attention. Your fic was quite lovely. I started writing on this site at the age of fifteen and some of my work was not as good as that. Keep up the great work!  
  
Lei Wood – I try to make the character relationships as real as Tolkien had. I try to work to the best of my ability.  
  
Laurajslr – The hobbits are so sweet together. I shall get on my knees and thank Tolkien for ever creating them. Yes our dear hobbits need a great deal of protection for what Saruman is plotting... eh heh... Perhaps you are trying to take over the world, or at least my brain, the plot bunnies you have cursed me with will not stop! Eeee! Good news is I'm working on and explanation for Frodo "manner" problem which will also take care of an explanation for Lilly Fairwater as well ^^. And some other stuff. Ah!  
  
ShireElf – Yes, Frodo is learning to exercise some amount of scrutiny when meeting new big people. But then who could blame him?  
  
Yahiko – My life! Yay! I shall write like the wind... er... yeah!  
  
Ailsa Joy – I'm glad you liked the last chapter. I realized I needed to do a Merry and Pippin perspective and decided it was about time. Our dear little hobbits. I pray that you update soon. It seems I've been writing fanfics more than reading them now-a-days.  
  
Jet-1 – Well I am willing to finish no matter how discouraged I get. I start something, I finish, that's a habit I should start getting into. And this fic is as good a place to start as any.  
  
Endymion2 – Thank you for the list! Now I know what you mean ^^. You are paying close attention to this fic aren't you? I see that I'm not being too cryptic at all, you guess to close!  
  
FrodoBaggins87 – Hang in there, slugger. I got plans for our little Ringbearer. 


	36. Mellon

Chapter 34 --- Mellon  
  
Again the company was to sunder and the peoples of Lorien would depart unto their land while those of Rivendell and the hobbits traveled anon. Sam remembered little of his parting with the Lady and only knew that he wished to see the beauty of the Dimrill Stair and the grey twilight of Lorien once more. But he knew that he never would walk upon the silken hillcrests, or among the glimmering mallorn trees, or lie amongst the dusty golden elanor in that enchanted land ever again. He felt a pang of grief as it only existed now as a waking dream in his memory and for the rest of the journey he clutched his little wooden box close to his breast.  
  
Sam was relieved that they passed around the mountain, though it took a great deal longer, he dreaded attempting to master the icy beast again. The air about was chill and Sam drew up his hood and kept a hand on Frodo's shoulder to guide him. They were never alone. The ponies walked beside them as riding through the rocky terrain was a danger the company was not willing to risk. Tall elves stood like sentries beside the hobbits and Merry and Pippin were never far either. If there were any orcs creeping about, Sam saw hide nor hair of them. The black sheets of rock shot up like walls of iron beside them and the straggling twisted forms of barren trees grew amongst the mire and foul waters.  
  
The vile waters were still like black glass and Sam found himself clutching Frodo near him and casting wary glances at the water, expecting tentacles to come slithering out seeking his master once more. But naught of the beast was seen and Merry and Pippin were wary not to disturb the water.  
  
They traveled as far as they could that day, the entire company eager to be far from that place. When they finally did choose to rest Sam sat with Frodo on a smooth grey rock and smoked pipeweed with Merry and Pippin silently. A fine haze hung over the mire and foul smelling weeds slithered up a crooked tree. Sam gazed at the flat grey wall of stone before him. He looked towards the sky that seemed very close and thick with clouds. He muttered as his eyes glanced past a faint glow that would be the moon. Gales of winds beat against the stone walls and battered back to buffet the company in a torrent of winds. Sam had to relight his pipe twice before giving up and simply chewing on the end.  
  
Frodo clutched Sam's sleeve and shivered. It was not that cold but the winds cut through every layer of clothing and chilled the skin. Merry left without a word and returned later with thick woolen blankets. One he draped over the rock to soften their bed and the other he threw over all four of them. Sam smiled and pulled it closer over Frodo's lap. Sam lay on his back and put his hands behind his head to watch the clouds speed past the dark sky. Every so often the soft glimmer of a star would peer out from behind the steely prison and then be consumed again. Sam sighed sadly. "Above all shadows rides the sun and stars forever dwell," he murmured, clutching the wool of the blanket.  
  
Sleep seemed far away, like it had disappeared beyond all recall after the Lady had gone. Sam sighed and looked about him. Merry was on the far side of the rock, one hand behind his head, the right one lying across his chest in an attempt to keep warm. Pippin was closer to him but all that could be seen of the young hobbit was his curls peering out from under the blanket and his hands clutching its end. Sam smiled slightly before turning to his right and finding Frodo, lying on his stomach, toying with the fabric of the wool and humming a child's lullaby.  
  
Sam reached out and clutched one of Frodo's trembling hands, all four of Frodo's fingers fit into Sam's hand, they were cold. Frodo turned to face his protector, his nose and cheeks were flushed with cold but he did not seem to mind it. Frodo did not seem eager to sleep soon and Sam was in no mood to urge him to do so. So the gardener resumed his attempts to catch a glance at stars. He tried to remember when Legolas taught him their names but now he could not name them if he saw one without the others. So he sighed and waited.  
  
With the great blasts of wind the clouds were beginning to abate. A few stars could be seen shimmering now and Sam could see the beginnings of Remmirath, or at least his gleaming belt. As the clouds began to wisp away Sam felt his eyes drooping and the thick haze of sleep began to comfort his troubled thoughts.  
  
The warmth of sleep seemed to quell the howling winds and wrap him deep in the comfort of slumber he almost expected to open his eyes and see the ceiling of his hole in Hobbiton. Sam felt that any moment he would be strolling up the hill as the grey of dawn was washed away by the color of the sun. He could almost feel the soft curtains of Bag-End in his hands as he threw them back and cried, "Good morning, Mr. Frodo! I drew a bath and was wondering what you would like for first breakfast this morning."  
  
Sam felt a cool, silver light on his cheek. He opened his eyes slightly and turned to his right where his master should have been lying. There the blanket rippled gently in the breeze but no hobbit beneath it. Sam sat up abruptly almost causing his head to spin. "Mr. Frodo!" his voice was shrill and hoarse with sleep. He scrambled to his feet and stopped dead as he looked before him.  
  
The doors to Moria were gleaming and the stars glimmered in the icy, clear sky. Frodo was standing before them, small and clutching his arms as he shivered, his cloak sweeping behind him. But what froze Sam was the blackness before his master. The doors were opened.  
  
Sam ran forward and clutched his master's trembling shoulders. Frodo turned to face him, his cheeks streaked with freezing tears. Frodo simply shook his head slowly and placed it on Sam's shoulder. "You don't understand do you?" Sam muttered, patting his master's back.  
  
Frodo lifted his head and shook it again, carefully, slowly. He took a deep shuddering breath and whispered, "Mellon," as if the word echoed the darkest despair he could ever know. His eyes rose to meet Sam's and he said it again steadily, "Mellon."  
  
Sam clutched Frodo's shoulders and led him across the camp at a near run. He stopped before Elrond and Gandalf as they sat, talking of things long past. The wizard stood nervously but Elrond eyed the two trembling hobbit's carefully. "You'll catch a chill," he said warmly before Sam could say a word. "Come and keep warm."  
  
"Master Elrond, sir!" cried Sam, allowing Frodo and himself to be led near a fire. "He's gone and spoke again but not what he's been saying, not at all. He opened the doors to Moria, Gandalf," he turned to the wizard and trembled with fear or excitement, he wasn't sure which. "He's gone and spoke 'friend', sir."  
  
"Did you hear him?" asked Elrond calmly, wrapping Frodo in a blanket.  
  
"Well no, not the first time. But he said it to me. Twice he said it to me! He knows what it is, sir. Weren't no echo."  
  
Elrond exchanged glances with Gandalf. The wizard sighed and turned away. "I will help with what I can."  
  
"Help what?" Sam looked from elf to wizard and then at his master who seemed to be staring into nothing, not even noting Gandalf's close presence.  
  
Elrond knelt before Sam and his grey eyes seemed to speak a desperation that could not be heard in his voice. "We have spoken long, Sam, of trying to force your master back."  
  
"Why didn't you try this earlier, then?" asked Sam with a great deal of caution.  
  
"I see now that he has some form of memory, the ability to recall past events and images. We could perhaps use that to give him a push."  
  
"I don't like the use of these words 'force' and 'push'," muttered Sam.  
  
"It will be difficult and not without risk."  
  
"Gandalf?" Sam turned to the wizard who had turned away and stooped his shoulders.  
  
"Elrond will tell you no lie, Samwise. Decide whether you would want this done for your master."  
  
Sam looked at his master who was hunched over with a blanket draped over his shoulders. He was staring almost painfully down at his hands as if there were something he could not quite understand. "Yes," Sam said hastily. "And quickly."  
  
"Now is as good a time as any." Elrond stood and placed a hand on Frodo's shoulder. The hobbit jolted and then turned to find Sam. Once assured that his protector was near he allowed the elf to lead him to a bed roll and lie down. Sam knelt beside him and placed his hand on Frodo's brow to comfort him. But Frodo looked about wildly and made an attempt to sit up. Sam coaxed him back down again and Elrond returned with Gandalf behind him.  
  
The elf cast his hand over Frodo's wide eyes and they closed, his quivering chest rising to take a deep, slow breath before falling into a thicket of dreams. Elrond brushed aside a few of Frodo's curls and then laid his hand on the hobbit's brow. Whatever elvish words were said, Sam could not recall them. A haze seemed to be cast over his thoughts. He saw Gandalf, shimmering as snow and holding his staff aloft. His eyes were closed tightly and his lips moved in slight murmurs.  
  
With a sudden jolt Frodo began to thrash and groan through gritted teeth beneath Elrond's touch. The elf did not move but Gandalf clenched his eyes shut tighter. Sam did not seem to find it necessary to move. His master seemed to be in peril but the gardener could not gather his scattered thoughts enough to even tighten his grip on Frodo's hand.  
  
It was when Frodo let out a searing cry that Sam blinked and then pulled the hand to his lips. "Oh master," he murmured but his voice drowned away in the thickness of the air. Frodo took no heed, his eyes shot open and they gazed up wildly, tears streaming down the sides of his face. His lips curled into a sneer and he wailed into the cold air until his voice was trapped among the soundless chants of the elven healer. Still no good seemed to be coming of this.  
  
Gandalf paused slightly, and lowered his staff as if in doubt, but swallowed hard and lifted it higher. The darkness must be broken but did that mean having to break Frodo as well. He must be able to break himself free somehow. But if he couldn't this was the only way.  
  
Frodo arched his back and howled again but again his voice was caught in the air and devoured before it rang beyond the small group. Still the stinging sound was like ice and he writhed upon the ground in agony. He seemed strung taught, as if he would snap in a moment. His hands beat against the ground, between shrieks deep sobbing could be heard that trembled in his chest and stuck in his throat. His eyes began to cloud as he stared sightlessly at the sky. His curling lips issued forth no noise. His back arched another time before his body lie, quivering upon the ground, his legs twitching slightly and his arms struggling as if bound.  
  
Elrond opened his eyes in that moment, seeming to leave his task unfinished. He whispered something as if to himself, "Stop this." Frodo lie quivering before him, his eyes beginning to clear but they were dim with confusion and despair and endless anguish.  
  
Sam looked down at his master and held his breath. The hazy eyes cleared and then shifted, looking about with wild fear. He looked upon Sam and in an instant wrapped his arms about his protector and wept. Sam shuddered with tears and patted Frodo's back. "I'm sorry, sir. I don't mean to cause you pain. Oh please don't never trust me again."  
  
"No, Sam," murmured Elrond. "I suppose I do not know what to seek in him that can reach any memory."  
  
"You tried, sir," Sam whispered, bowing his head.  
  
"We must find it in our hearts to trust to Frodo's own strength," said Gandalf.  
  
"You asked too much of him before," Sam muttered with a bit of disdain. "And this is what happened. As strong as my master was, he had a breaking point like everyone else."  
  
"Have hope, Samwise."  
  
"Aye, I'll hold to it if I can. Never was anything else to hold onto anyway." Frodo was trembling but his grip did not loosen and Sam had to pry him away and help him stand. Elrond offered to walk the two hobbits back to where they had made their beds.  
  
"Perhaps it is worth another try, once we return to the safety of Imladris," offered Elrond as Sam helped Frodo under the blanket. Sam seemed to think about this but did not answer.  
  
The young hobbit settled in himself and welcome the warmth the wool offered. Merry and Pippin had not changed their respectable positions and, while Pippin was still unseen, Merry's mouth was open and he was snoring loudly. Elrond chuckled, "And perhaps you'd like to sleep by our tents tonight if you cannot tolerate the horns of Rohan."  
  
Sam chuckled, "No thank you, sir. This is homier in a way. Though I do hope Mr. Pippin can breathe."  
  
Elrond raised an eyebrow at the tuft of curls the peered out from over the blanket. "I'm sure he'll fare fine enough to chat a few ears off tomorrow."  
  
"Without a doubt," said Sam. He turned to his master who was pulling the blanket close and shivering before curling up and sighing deeply. "Are you sure he'll be..."  
  
"Fine as long as you are near, Samwise. I would not push him too far if I could help it. He's rattled and may stay that way for quite a long time."  
  
"What did it do to him?" Sam whispered fearfully.  
  
Elrond closed his eyes and spoke as warmly as he could. "I attempted to break the chains that bind your master but they are embedded within him too deeply. If they were to break then so would their prisoner."  
  
Sam shuddered. "Then I'm not sure I want you to try again."  
  
"Remember, Master Samwise, the fate your master now suffers is a greater terror than the end he might meet."  
  
Sam shot a dark glare at the elf and threw the blankets over him, turning his back to Elrond and ending the conversation right then.  
  
A/N: Wow almost to 400 reviews! Yippee! I'm so glad people are enjoying this. We shall see who the 400th reviewer shall be. I'm sorry this is taking long. Like I said, I've reached the end of prewritten stuff... grr. Just gotta work harder. I hope you are sticking by me and enjoying of course.  
  
laurajslr - Well Envin was back briefly but he may appear again for a bigger scene in the near future. I'm trying to space it out properly. As for the visions you may reread the chapter entitled "Prophesies" and that'll clear things up a bit. But just a bit! I don't think Gandalf relaxed at all what with the fighing the Balrog for days on end and then dying and having to come back an all... quite a task. I haven't seen Eternal Sunshin! I'm soo mad too because now it's not in theatres and I gotta wait for the dvd! grr! Wanted to see that so bad too. Don't tell me about it I wanna be surprised. Hope you enjoyed this chapter.  
  
Yahiko - Um... woot? Heehee. Hope you liked this chapter.  
  
Bookworm2000 - Yes there should be a bit more about the visions though I don't plan on making things much clearer in the future. Mwahahaha! I'm glad you are following though, some people seem to be a little confused. I hope I'm not being too cryptic.  
  
Stoneage Woman - I hope you feel better. Take one chapter and call me in the morning. Enjoy!  
  
Nutty - ::pats head:: You are forgiven if you update your fic. Heh I wish I was the unmatchable genius that was Tolkien but alas. My boyfriend calls me "Tolkien-with-breasts" so that's close enough I guess. He's nuts... like you... I'm glad you see my writing has improved, it brings much happiness! Yay! I think I'm starting to write like you now. It's ok! Funness! Please don't feel so bad about missing some of the fic though, people do that and it's alright (it's a very long fic so it's understandable) But I do hope you continue writing. You have a gift and I enjoy your story.  
  
ShireElf - Bad feelings! ::shudders:: I hate those. Well read and find out what will happen to this poor hobbit I'm just torturing endlessly. I hope you enjoyed this chapter.  
  
Breon Briarwood - Well somewhat breakthrough. Hope you like. I plan on bringing them to Rivendell very soon. Next chapter or the one after. And then I have to bring in dear Bilbo! Ee! ::sniff::  
  
Frodo's Gal - I've never really written a story centering around Merry and Pippin but it is a nice idea. I did write a short fic with Merry as the central character. Read it if you like "Of Crickets and Weavers of Words" nice and sweet though not so cliffy. And I never ever ever write slash. Check my bio. I get quite ranty.  
  
Ailsa Joy - I'll forgive you for the lack of updates (::sighs impatiently:: I suppose) I hope you enjoyed this chapter and hopefully I'll get off my own arse and write some more. I'm going rather slowly myself.  
  
endymion2 - That is a wonderful saying. I think I've heard it before, exactly like that so there really isn't and American rendition I suppose. Oh foo on those emails. This is what I said "Heh thank you very much for the list of abbreviations. I for one rarely use them myself but it's good to know. Now I know what you meant by "IMHO elves suck!" heh well I don't exactly loathe them as much as all that but I have never written a fanfiction about them. I can't say there is a single character created by Tolkien that I don't like. Thank you again for the list. And yes, America is where all the lazy people that create abbreviations thrive. I once was at a friends house and someone imed her while she was getting dressed. She told me to respond "cool" so I did and she freaked out at me because I didn't write "kewl" I just blinked and said "it takes the same amount of effort to write both doesn't it?" Oh well, I'm not much of a conformist, plus I like to express myself with some amount of formality even when I instant message. I shall update soon and I'm working on a number of other fics. You should read my recent one, it's short but it seems to be well received." (meaning "Too Much To Ask" though I did write another little ficlet, damn plot bunnies)  
  
Iorhael - Yay for review. Update quickly so I may return the favor.  
  
lovethosehobbits - I'll keep updating if you keep reviewing. I hope you are enjoying this fic.  
  
Leia Wood - Thank you! Enjoy! 


	37. Imladris

Chapter 35 --- Imladris  
  
Frodo was shivering, violently, painfully, and the blanket did nothing. It was a terrible cold, a cold that emanated from within and turned his aching bones to ice. His eyes stung, open wide as if frozen there. His pale, blue lips were trembling with unspoken sobs, he ran his tongue over them in attempt to warm them, but to no avail. If he were at all aware of anything beyond the cold and terror that gripped him he would have seen his protector and the others around him were warm and content with rosy cheeks and gentle, sleeping breaths.  
  
Frodo clutched the blanket and trembled with horror and a remembered pain. He could not even wonder why this was or how it had come to be. All he knew was fear and confusion and a deep, boundless cold that clutched him from within. And he knew that he could not bear it. He turned to face his protector and clutch his arm, tugging urgently but Samwise was deeply asleep. Frodo's desperate jostling only seemed to emit a few incoherent murmurs from the gardener and then sent him back to dreams. The simple hobbit clenched his eyes shut and tried to steady his shaking but it could not be done. Icy tears clung to his lashes and he tugged harder. He pursed his trembling lips together and stuttered, "M-mellon, m-mellon!" A weak, quivering tone that, under any other circumstance would not be thought possible to be coming from Frodo Baggins.  
  
A voice so small seemed to quiver amongst the shadows of Sam's dreams and freeze them like ice. He blinked his eyes open and his head cleared as if an icy breeze awoke him. He sat up and felt a violent trembling beside him. There lay Frodo, curled up, clutching the blanket with his eyes clenched shut and his teeth chattering. Sam bent and gathered his master in his arms. He nearly jumped at the coldness of Frodo's skin. He pressed his master's face to the warmth of his breast and laid his lips on Frodo's crown. "There, me dear master, why are you so cold?"  
  
Sam shifted and allowed his master to rest in his arms, like a child at rest when night-fears are driven away by some loved voice or hand. Sam smiled sadly, remembering Cirith Ungol and how he wished he could have just held his master ever and anon, content and safe. "You are safe, me dear, I can tell you that. You are safe and you don't have to go nowhere this time. Just rest now, master."  
  
They stayed like that until the sun rose and dawn's light filled the campsite yet Frodo's shivering had not quelled. Sam himself began to feel the cold creep into him and he began to worry. He touched a hand to Frodo's flushed cheek and pulled it back as if he had just touched snow. His gasp must have awoken Pippin for Sam could hear the young hobbit groaning and stretching behind him. Suddenly Pippin's sleep-addled voice could be heard shrill and clear. "Sam, what's wrong with Frodo!" He scrambled to his feet and stepped on Merry doing away with the last of any peaceful sleep any hobbit was getting.  
  
"I don't know, Mr. Pippin, but I reckon it's not good. He woke me not too long ago on account he was so cold but I'd think he'd be warmed up by now."  
  
Pippin laid a gentle hand on Frodo's brow and gasped, "He's cold as snow!" cried the young hobbit.  
  
"Pip, go get Elrond," said Merry, crouching beside his trembling cousin. "Sam you don't look too well off yourself, your flushed like a blushing lass."  
  
Sam smiled slightly. "Almost like holding an icicle for a good long time."  
  
"Then let me take my cousin for a little while and you warm up."  
  
"Aye sir," said Sam, shifting Frodo's shaking form into Merry's arms. Frodo clung at first to Sam and whimpered as if movement were a pain but once feeling Merry's warmth he burrowed into his cousin's chest. Merry shuddered and then clutched Frodo close. Sam attempted to rub some warmth back into his arms as he saw Elrond approaching and Pippin scurrying beside him.  
  
"What's happened?" asked the elf, kneeling before Merry. He placed the back of his hand against Frodo's cheek and frowned slightly. "I'm not sure why he is chill but I know what will help it." He smiled slightly and stood up. "I will bring you some warm athelas water and all four of you will feel better. The three hobbits perked up, knowing well the effects of athelas, and nodded eagerly.  
  
Sam held the shallow, wooden bowl before him and breathed its steam with a contented sigh, then placed it on the ground before Merry and Frodo. Merry pried his cousin's desperate grip off of him and supported him as Frodo was leant over the steam. It curled up and brought a timid smile to his lips, touching his stiff curls and softening them to rest in a gentle crown about his face. His icy lips returned to their normal rosy hue and the cold frost that seemed to settle on his skin warmed to a healthy blush. He opened his eyes to smile down at the curls of steam before Merry brought him back into his embrace. Frodo sighed with weary content and leant into the embrace gratefully. Pippin and Sam glanced at each other not quite sure if Frodo's chills were over but at the sound of his slow breaths they realized he found peaceful dreams at last. Sam mourned silently that he would need to be awakened to travel for the rest of that day.  
  
Frodo was nearly boneless and weighed down with such a deep sleep, they hurt even more to wake him. Despite his almost peaceful rest his eyelids had an unhealthy pallor that suggested how greatly weary he was. Elrond assured Sam it was simply an effect from the other day and that it was quite expected for Frodo to be exhausted from his toils.  
  
He moaned as Sam jostled him awake but followed obediently, shuffling his feet and attempting to blink sleep away. Merry's steady hands were holding him upright and Sam lead him to the pony where they mounted and Frodo attempted to fall asleep through the rest of the ride.  
  
Sam could not help but worry over Frodo's cold spell and he sped up his pony to keep up with Elrond's horse to inquire. He was thankful that Frodo was asleep for the slight increase in the pony's step may have terrified him. Elrond smiled down at Sam. "Something troubles you."  
  
"Yes sir, Lord Elrond. I can understand why he'd be so tired, sir, that's not what bothers me. He needs to be getting rest if you follow me. But all this cold business, he just couldn't get warm. It wasn't just that he was so cold, sir, but that weren't no normal chill. Being that cold by rights just isn't natural, sir, but not getting any warmer after a time is rather frightening."  
  
"I cannot say that I can explain why your master was afflicted so, Samwise, but I can see no great damage by it and he is no longer afflicted is he?"  
  
"Oh no, he isn't, I was just rather... well worried, sir," replied Sam uneasily.  
  
The elf lord smiled, "And rightly so. It took quite a lot out of your master, Sam, what I tried yesterday, and I must be honest, he did not have a lot in him. I would see why he would fall into such a cold spell. It might be like to when he received the Morgul wound, it drained him of strength and made him very cold. Only this had no lasting poison so he should be well with a bit of rest."  
  
Sam's expression seemed to fall sadly. "Oh, yes sir, I know," he murmured. "I suppose that does explain it but if you are going to do something like that again let it be in the comfort of Rivendell if you follow me, sir. I just don't want my master being in any danger, any more danger that is, than he ought to be."  
  
"He ought not be in any," said Elrond. "And I will see to that if I may."  
  
"When will we get to Rivendell, Master Elrond? I'm anxious for a bit of rest, sir."  
  
"You are welcome in Rivendell for as long as you wish to stay and you need not worry about rest. As my guests I will see to it that you need not take the trip to the feast hall if you were too weary." He smiled a gentle smile.  
  
Sam blushed a bit. "Oh sir, I never need any treatment like that."  
  
Elrond chuckled, "Dear Samwise you will not worry any more. The road is safe and you will rest soon for the Last Homely House is a day's ride away. We may reach it by nightfall if luck hold's out."  
  
"I sure hope it does, sir!" cried Sam. "It'd do me good just to see Frodo content and at rest if just a little. And maybe you think you can try again sir? And then well maybe, that is if you can, well I guess I'm hoping..." Sam trailed off and choked a little. "Well sir I guess I'm just a fool for hoping so much."  
  
"Then so am I," Elrond grinned.  
  
Sam blushed a little and turned away.  
  
Merry and Pippin rode with Gandalf at the rear of the company keeping a clear eye out for Saruman. Naught of the fell wizard was seen at all that day and they rode in peace along the countryside of Hollin. The thick pines and holly trees filled the air with a heavy scent that seemed to give peace to their troubled hearts. A deep green canopy hung above them and the thin trees began to gather into the thickness of the heart of the woods. They were a small wood and Sam smiled as he looked up, blinking as the sun peered between the leaves.  
  
The ground began to ascend upwards as the trees parted on either side like sentinels. A smooth white road began to form beneath them and it wound upwards until the trees vanished and beside them was the white stone of the cliffside of the valley. Sam blinked in the fading sunlight and saw before him the splendor of the roaring waters as they gushed over the cliff's edge and tumbled, glittering in the sun and creating wavering streams of color. Sam's expression brightened and Frodo, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, blinked in wonder. Before them was the familiar stoop of a white roof and the carved white pillars of the Last Homely house, glimmering in the sun's fading light of gold and copper. The clouds hung among the silver sky and a sweet scented breeze heralded the evening. Elrond smiled down at Sam. "Hope is best found unlooked for, young hobbit."  
  
He gripped the stirrup and saddle that nearly shook in his hands. He was weary, nearly trembling with exhaustion and, being a healer, he should have known he was in no condition to ride. Still, Envin had no choice. He saddled his horse and leaned against the steed, panting and sweating. The white horse nuzzled him gently and Envin laughed breathlessly. "Yes, yes, I know, I'm in no condition to ride." He handed the gentle animal an apple and patted his nuzzle. "So you are going to be very gentle with me, right?" He laughed again, "But swift! Now speed, Derufin!" He swung himself upon the horse and clung to his reigns. The steed burst from the stables and sped away, down the road and out of the inner circle of the White City. Envin stifled a cry as an imshr shot through him and with a flash he saw Frodo thrown down for the thousandth time. He shook his head painfully, no matter how many times he saw it he was still filled with fear and sorrow.  
  
A/N: "...like a child at rest when night-fears are driven away by some loved voice or hand." Taken form Return of the King (I'm sure you already knew that but I don't want to take credit for Tolkien's words. I accidentally forgot the disclaimer on one of Merry's lines in "Desecrated Laughter and The Torment of the Guilty") To tell the truth I wanted to quote Tolkien directly there because that scene in the book struck me as so heartbreaking mainly because of the fact that they could not stay that way. They had no time to get a single moment of peace or a small around of well- deserved rest. That broke my heart so much I just had to give it to them. Well my boyfriend's back.... And this incredibly short chapter took long enough as it is. Need I say more? So much to do... so little time... help!  
  
Stoneage Woman – Sorry this chapter is so short... never mind how long it took to post it. Blech. I would go read and review your story but I don't know where to find it. Link me or something   
  
Galadriellady945 – Of course there will be more chapters! There hasn't been a conclusion yet, my goodness! Keep reading!  
  
ShireElf – Well he said it again. Referring to Sam this time, yay.  
  
Laurajslr – Of course I know how/when I'm going to end it! But you'll just have to wait for that. I'm glad you noticed I've improved on Sam's dialogue. I was very happy bout that.  
  
Leia Wood – Don't worry I'm not quite near the end yet. But more clues on to exactly how I am going to end it are cropping up   
  
Shire Baggins – Sorry for the over-depressive-angstyness... my storytelling ability has improved as you can see. I hope you are enjoying.  
  
Naryana Baggins – I should know... I am a blonde! I can be quite a beast when I'm mad. Hope you are enjoying the story nonetheless.  
  
Breon Briarwood – Well I'm very glad I bring people joy through my writing. Can't wait until I get good enough to work on real publish worthy stories... getting there. Sorry to say there is no continuation for "Desecrated Laughter and The Torment of the Guilty" I'm not ready to take on two long fics at the same time. I'm very happy that you like my writing.  
  
Iorhael – Well yes the chain would break the prisoner's wrist... if it were around his wrist... these bonds are around Frodo's mind... thus the severe risk. Update soon. And enjoy!  
  
Endymion2 – Yes well I couldn't let Elrond abandon a possibility to save Frodo... no matter how small.  
  
Ailsa Joy – Elrond can be such a stickler can't he. Well "never ask an elves a question... for they will answer with both yea and nay..." heehee. I hope your foot is alright. You better update soon!  
  
Frodo's Gal – Well it's always good to expand your horizons to different characters. A trait, as an author, I should better develop. When I find time... if I find time... I'll attempt something for Mer and Pip.  
  
Tersa – I sleep like that too when I leave my air conditioner on and my room is all like the arctic in the morning.  
  
Elizabeth16 – Hope you are enjoying the story! Keep reading! 


	38. Bilbo

Chapter 36 --- Bilbo  
  
Frodo blinked in wonder as he opened his sleepy eyes to see bright, glowing stars rising from the ground to hover in the air, shining with a soft glimmer like jewels in the night. Sam wrapped an arm around Frodo's waist to hold him upright as an elf took the horses to the stables. The gardener was smiling as a father would to a son as he watched Frodo become wonderstruck by such a small thing. The glimmering lights shone so very close and some rested in Sam's hair causing him to laugh and Frodo to start in amazement.  
  
"They're fireflies, sir!" laughed Sam, holding out a hand for one. It rested in his palm and he brought it closer for Frodo to see. "See, just little starbugs. They're all over the Shire."  
  
Frodo's mouth was nearly agape as he watched the creatures but he was too weary to stand on his own and Sam brought him inside the Last Homely House. Elrond walked before them in a regal sweep of thick velvet robes, the folds casting an array of shadows and light. The gold thread on his raiment shimmered in the failing light. By the time they reached Frodo's quarters, the same room he rested in when recovering from the Morgul wound, Frodo was blinking in a vain attempt to keep his eyes open. Elrond lifted him onto the soft mattress and left Sam to tend his master.  
  
The young hobbit quickly set to his usual chores. He closed the gossamer shades as moonlight began to filter in the room. He lit the lamp on the nightstand and brought over the silver pitcher of water and a shallow bowl for his master to bathe with. The room was already furnished with such luxuries and the softest of towels and cloths were folded in the bowl with a single bar of soap. Sam sniffed it and smiled. "This will have you resting peacefully in no time, sir," he proclaimed. "All fresh and sweet but not too strong like those fine things elves usually have."  
  
Sam wrung out the soapy cloth and cleaned up his master's hands and face before Frodo leaned back into the feather pillows with a sigh. "Now that's a world of difference, isn't it Mr. Frodo. Been quite a long time since a proper wash and rest and you deserve it, no doubt." Frodo did not seem to hear, already allowing his utter wear to claim him as he drifted into a deep sleep. Sam crawled to the foot of the bed and swung his legs down. He watched the darkness filter into the sky and thought on what Elrond had said.  
  
If whatever Elrond attempted to do was so dangerous that it would leave his master drained of warmth and life, Sam wasn't so sure he wanted the elf lord doing it again. But, Frodo being in such a state, his master would be infuriated to know that something could have been done and was not. He wanted his master back so badly.  
  
Sam pulled up his knees and buried his face in them. He could not tolerate losing his master, the pain would be too deep to know that Frodo had come so far and been lost in the end. But wasn't he lost already?  
  
Before Sam had any time to sink deeper into despair Merry and Pippin came in and sat beside the gardener. "Come on, Sam," said Pippin. "Don't despair just yet. Come, let's look for old Bilbo, I'm sure he'll be enraged to know we didn't go straight to see him."  
  
Merry smiled slightly as Sam hopped off the bed. "I almost forgot," replied the gardener. "Poor Master Bilbo will be heartbroken," he turned towards the sleeping figure on the bed. "Do you know where to find him?"  
  
"Not at all," said Pippin, hopping down with a flourish. "But we want you with us when we do."  
  
Merry slung an arm around Sam's shoulders and flashed a comforting smile, his eyes secretly straying back to his cousin, engulfed in a white counterpane and supported by the softness of many pillows.  
  
The hall was well lit. Lamps, glowing with bright flame, were posted on the wall every few strides. The hobbits found their way around the home with ease and their memories were rekindled of the bright days and niggling worries they felt the first time they walked these halls. They wandered to and fro, seeking Gandalf or Strider or Bilbo, or they would stride to Frodo's room and sit beside his bed, if only for a moment before they could not bear the worry and grief much longer. Sam remembered dashing down this hall so often he thought the stones beneath his feet would smooth and wear. Bringing food and water to his sick master or fetching Elrond and Gandalf for aid when Frodo was in the throes of a nightmare.  
  
Now Sam had to convince himself his master was perfectly safe from any night terrors and the Morgul wound was but a shadow in memory. Merry and Pippin found their way to the pantry which always seemed to be their point of reference when attempting to navigate the long halls of Imladris. Bilbo's room, Pippin declared, was far east of the kitchen. So they traveled along the eastern corridor and found the fine wood door, threads of light between its cracks, that would lead them into the old hobbit's room. All three hobbits exchanged glances before opening the door.  
  
Inside the floor was strewn with half scribbled on papers and stacks of books could have been mistaken for furniture (as they were obviously used for it). Bilbo was always an incredibly neat hobbit for a bachelor and a sorry candidate for watching children. But now his nattering ways seemed a thing of the past and the old hobbit could be seen, slumped on a chair, with a pen poised in his trembling fingers. A frown creased his aged and weary brow and the three young hobbits admitted with curious wonder that he had aged considerably since they last saw him.  
  
Sam took the feather pen from his fingers to save them from ink stains and placed it on the desk, which was overflowing with notes and things. Sam shifted through them curiously, even without guilt at invading the old hobbit's privacy. His curiosity was far too strong. "Why it's all about his adventure," mused Sam. "Oh lovely things here," he murmured, picking up a sheet in elvish. "His script was always best that way, I said to him."  
  
"Can you read it, Sam?"  
  
"I cannot," said the gardener. "They taught me letters they did but none so fine. I just don't think they never had the time for it, Master Bilbo and Master Frodo that is. Once I got down Westron well enough Bilbo was already gone and Frodo was starting with Quenya. I just never picked it up."  
  
"Pity," murmured Merry. "I should like to know what he said here." He was holding up a piece that was nearly blank with the long spidery script dragging along faltering lines. "It was near his hand, looks like he just wrote it recently."  
  
Sam took the page, knowing well he could not read it, and his eyes widened as he let the shaking leaf fall to the ground as if it were a vile thing. "That's no fine script, it isn't!" said the gardener with scorn. "It's what was on that loathsome ring."  
  
"Oh," whispered Merry, gazing at his uncle.  
  
It was then that Bilbo chose to grumble and crack his eyes open. Before his dusty eyes he saw three hobbits looking rather uncomfortable and ashamed. He blinked a few times and squinted. "Well look who's come back!" he announced with a smile. He pushed himself up from the chair and looked the three hobbits up and down. As he examined them his face fell into one of terrible dread. "Oh.." he murmured, falling back into the chair. His trembling hands rose up to cover his eyes. "Oh my dear boy! My dear boy!"  
  
It took a moment for the three to register before Sam ran to Bilbo's side and knelt, grasping his hands. "Oh no sir! No, no Master Bilbo. Frodo is with us. He's gone abed on account he's so tired from the journey. But he's here, sir, and you can see him if you like."  
  
Merry and Pippin bit their lips wondering if Sam knew he was just making it harder to tell Bilbo exactly what state Frodo was in. Bilbo bit his lip and straightened. "Of course," he mumbled. "Surely he was not too tired to stop and say goodnight though?"  
  
Sam leaned back on his haunches. "Well, sir..."  
  
"Nonsense, you can't tell me he's trekked all over this earth and he's got no time to tell his old uncle about it? Now where's the lad got to?" Bilbo made to stand but Sam put a hand on his shoulder.  
  
"No, wait sir. Frodo's back with us but he's been through so much and you need..."  
  
"Well of course," announced Bilbo with a wave of his hand. "What with armies and dragons and such grand kingdoms, I'm sure he's got his head full of stories for me. You know I once met a dragon, sly thing he was. Why I can't believe he's not bursting to tell me all he's seen. He was always such an energetic lad. He ate my stories up. He just couldn't wait to have his own adventure."  
  
Sam got a very worried look about him and Merry stepped forward. "Of course our journey has been full of astounding things, Bilbo. Why Pip and I met talking trees and, look, we're a full foot taller at least, and Pip here fought a troll."  
  
"Amazing!" laughed Bilbo. "You've all got so much to tell. But tell me, where is Frodo-lad?"  
  
Merry knelt and placed a hand on Bilbo's shoulder. "Yes, amazing things, cousin. But there were terrible things as well. And Frodo's seen the worst of it. He's done some wonderful things, Bilbo, you'd be terribly proud of him."  
  
"He's a hero at no mistake," whispered Sam, mostly to himself.  
  
"Yes, Bilbo, a hero, but at a great price," said Merry solemnly.  
  
"What's all this?" Bilbo looked from each somber expression to the ground and sighed. "What's happened? Where is he? I want to see him now more than ever. Where is my lad?"  
  
"We told you, Bilbo," said Merry with gentle patience. "He's asleep. You can see him if you like but you must let him rest."  
  
Bilbo waved a hand and made to stand again. He shuffled quietly out of the room with three hobbits at his heals.  
  
"Do you see now, Elrond?"  
  
"Do not think that I did not know it would be so," said the elflord as he shot a glare at the wizard. "I knew well what it would do to Frodo."  
  
"It has such a hold on him. I told him once, so long ago, that if I were to make him destroy the Ring it would break his mind. Attempting to free him from the bonds It still has entwined within his mind is the same thing."  
  
"I know. Still, I suppose I was only hoping. Sitting idly has done nothing."  
  
"Yes, I believe that I truly did want you to try though I protested so."  
  
Elrond smiled, "I know you did. You worry for him more than you like to admit. Though I now understand your fascination with hobbits."  
  
Gandalf frowned bitterly. "You can almost hear It, can't you? It's utterly destroyed, Its power gone and Its lord diminished, and yet I can still hear It laughing."  
  
Elrond just nodded somberly. He placed a hand on Frodo's cool brow and smoothed away his worry. His face was pale in the moonlight that shimmered through the gossamer curtains and his curls were dark as shadows, crowning his sleeping face. He looked so small, lost among the pale white counterpane.  
  
The wizard and elf turned to see Bilbo step into the room, Sam, Pippin, and Merry not far behind. The old hobbit walked up to the bed and Elrond offered him a hand as he struggled onto the chair. The three young hobbits slowly filtered in to stand beside Gandalf as they watched Bilbo take one of Frodo's cold hands in his own.  
  
"My dear boy," he murmured. "I wished to never see you lost in this giant of a bed again. I only wished the best for you, my lad. Only the best. If I'd have known this... oh if I'd have known! I would have let you stay in Buckland, dear boy. Let a foolish old hobbit finish what he's started, that's what I should have done. Oh, once your parents died I never wanted to see you hurting again. My dear lad. If I were to ever have a son..." Bilbo trailed off as he saw Frodo's eyelashes twitch slightly with movement.  
  
The simple hobbit opened his bright eyes and blinked sleepily. His confused gaze rested on Bilbo and stared for a long time. Bilbo clutched Frodo's hand tighter. "That's it my lad! That's it Frodo, you just listen to old Bilbo."  
  
Frodo blinked again and pulled his hand back to himself and made an attempt to sit up. He propped himself on his elbows and looked around wildly. Bilbo sat up straighter and leaned forward. "You've got to rest. Have a talk with me, will you my boy? Why, don't you know me? Look here, my lad. See? I suppose I'm older than you last saw me but oh my lad how I've worried for you. Why won't you talk to me? Don't you hear me? Come along say something."  
  
Frodo blinked slowly and cast a few glances in Sam's direction to make sure things were safe. Elrond stepped beside Bilbo. "Dear Master Hobbit," he said gently. "Frodo is not angry with you. He cannot talk to you because he doesn't understand."  
  
"What sort of poppycock is that?" admonished Bilbo. "Of course he understands. Frodo's the most skilled linguist in the whole Shire, aren't you my boy?"  
  
"Bilbo," began Elrond again with the same gentle tone. "The quest took a great deal out of Frodo. He is not who he once was. He cannot understand. He has been through much and it has left him as he is before you."  
  
Bilbo shook his head, tears in his eyes. "Oh my boy! Tell me you've come through in the end. Tell me you've come through just like your old Bilbo."  
  
Frodo shook his head slightly and backed into the headboard, feeling cornered he looked pleadingly at Sam. The gardener made to step forward but it was then that Bilbo reached forward and wrapped his arms around Frodo. He pressed his head against Frodo's chest and wept quietly. The simple hobbit froze with a look of confusion on his face. He looked down at the grey curls pressed against his chest and then back up to Sam. He did not know what to do so he simply gazed in wide-eyed wonder.  
  
Sam looked up at Gandalf. "Should something be done?" he whispered.  
  
Gandalf waited a moment and then sighed. Bilbo leaned back in his chair and brought his hands up to his face. Frodo was trembling slightly, tearstains leaving cold tracks along his nightshirt. Gandalf gave Sam a little nudge and he quickly clamoured onto the bed and stroked Frodo's hands gently, whispering to him calmly.  
  
"Don't fret," hushed Sam. Frodo's trembling began to subside as he rested again among the pillows but now he seemed reluctant to sleep. His quivering hands held fast to Sam as he gazed wonderingly at Bilbo.  
  
"So many things happened," whispered Merry as he took one of Bilbo's hands in his own. "So many wonderful and terrible things. You will hear about them all if you like and Pip and I will help you with your book as Frodo had promised to do."  
  
Pippin nodded eagerly. "We've much to tell you, Bilbo, before we return to the Shire."  
  
"Of course," said Bilbo a little hoarsely. "Of course, there must be many tales to tell. But I would rather hear them from Frodo if you don't mind lads."  
  
Merry exchanged a worried look with Pippin. "He can't tell you, Bilbo."  
  
"Nonsense."  
  
"Frodo's not who he once was," explained Pippin once more. "I'm sorry Bilbo, but he was lost along the way."  
  
Bilbo turned worriedly to his young cousin, sitting beside Sam on the bed as the gardener wiped away his tears. "Oh Frodo, it's all my fault," he murmured.  
  
"Don't go blaming yourself, Bilbo," began Merry.  
  
"Why can't he speak to me?"  
  
Merry took a breath and then decided it was better telling Bilbo elsewhere. He grasped the older hobbit's elbow gently and started leading him away. "Come, Bilbo, and I will tell you all that has happened to your beloved nephew."  
  
A/N: Well those three little woovely things I use to segue a change of scene are somehow not allowed on ff.net any more. ::grumble:: So until I find some other form of segue things may be a little confusing. For those that are worried about my... erm... distraction... you needn't worry any more he's gone as quickly as he's come back and it will be a year until he is back to distract me again. ::sob:: The bad news is... Frodo will pay for this! Eh heh... ::pats hobbit:: I would never take out any frustration on such a dear hobbit... it's not professional ::grin::  
  
Arwen Baggins – Yes yes! Very bad! Forgetting to review. Shame on you! Heh, and Frodo wasn't suffering from the Morgul wound. It was just a side effect of Elrond's treatment. His attempt to break the bonds that held Frodo left the hobbit weak and drained.  
  
Laurajslr – You needn't be patient any longer ::sob:: Don't expect another mention of Envin for a while, I need to space things out with him. Update soon.  
  
Galadriellady945 – I'll forever keep writing!  
  
Stoneage Woman – Well I shouldn't take too long to update any more ::huff:: And as for Elrond grinning I tried to depict his fatherly side. After all in the movie he's rather cold and detached and I didn't quite get that feeling from him in the book.  
  
Nayana Baggins – Sure I will take a look at your stories. I'm glad you are enjoying mine. Keep reviewing!  
  
Ailsa Joy – Actually my recent ficlet "At Last" was more or less boyfriend inspired and it's my first fic that didn't center around Frodo (though I couldn't resist him at the end ). I suppose that was my commiseration with Rose... I have a year to wait as well as he goes off to war as well... I'm glad you like my descriptions as I seem to be terribly addicted to writing very long and wordy ones. I'm so glad you updated! I hope your next update will be a little sooner. I love Envin as well, we've created such wonderful characters. Don't worry, Ematen is not entirely forgotten, he'll be mentioned again.  
  
ShireElf – Well you'll just have to read to find out if Frodo can be saved. Keep reviewing!  
  
Frodo's Gal – Well I did write a fic centering around Rosie... which is a slight change... but no Merry and Pippin plot bunnies just yet. Hope you're enjoying.  
  
Breon Briarwood – Thank you for the compliment but I think there's a lot of room for improvement. Then again we are all our own toughest critics. Thank you and keep reviewing.  
  
Endymion2 – Oh my I hope that you don't have anything against sweet little Pippin. I hope the length of this chapter is more to your satisfaction. Enjoy!  
  
Iorhael – The coldness Frodo was feeling was an after effect of Elrond's attempt to break his bonds, it left him drained of life, warmth, and energy.  
  
Lovethosehobbits – Fear not my boyfriend! Heh I have plenty of time to write now ::grumble::  
  
Tersa – I'm glad you're enjoying this fic. Envin won't be mentioned again for a while. We shall see what happens to him then. I'm in a rather sadistic mood since my boyfriend was taken away so quickly once more ::snicker::  
  
Frodo-lovers – I'm glad you like this fic so much. Encourages me to keep writing it. Keep reviewing! 


	39. Imitation

Chapter 37 --- Imitation  
  
Sam ran his sleeve across his brow and looked at the shadows of the trees. They had been walking for most of the morning and he had to admit that he lost track of time. He looked back guiltily to see Frodo a few strides behind him, dragging his feet, and looking fairly tired. Yet he persisted against the small incline as the road led them along its narrow, winding course. Sam turned back and stood beside him, wrapping a supportive arm about his waist.  
  
"There now, please forgive your Sam. I suppose I just felt I needed to cover the most distance in the shortest amount of time. Old habits, sir, I shouldn't forget myself." He brought Frodo over to a small stone in the shade and sat him down, handing him the water flask. "I suppose Master Elrond was right when he said we shouldn't go for any walks just yet, but I so wanted to see the place before we left it."  
  
"I know you did, Sam, but you don't need to worry."  
  
Sam spun around. "Who!" he cried, looking about wildly.  
  
Elrond stepped forward. "You don't think I'd let the both of you off alone just yet.  
  
"Of course not," Sam murmured trying to regain his scattered thoughts. "Sorry, Master Elrond. I've just been thinking of-"  
  
"Saruman?"  
  
"Well, yes sir. You don't think he can come into Rivendell, do you?"  
  
"The boarders of this land are well protected and well guarded. You and your master are safe here. I followed to make sure you did not get lost or over exhaust yourselves. Frodo is faring well now but that does not mean he can be exerting himself in such a manner, especially without the ability to complain."  
  
Sam smiled slightly. "He's never had that ability, sir."  
  
"Are you well enough to walk back?" asked Elrond as he lifted Frodo from the stone.  
  
"Yes, sir. Of course." He followed after the elf dutifully. As they walked back Sam saw Elrond gently checking Frodo's breathing and feeling his brow. Sam blushed deeply. "I'm sorry, sir."  
  
"You don't need to say you're sorry to me and Frodo seems to be faring well enough so I doubt he'll blame you.  
  
"Not saying that he would, but I suppose, well sir, I've never taken care of someone like this before. It's frightening, yes sir very frightening, and I don't know what to do. I never had to take care of no family that was as young as not to talking yet. He can't tell me what he wants and what he needs any more."  
  
"Well, Master Samwise, I can't say for sooth that I know your master as well as you but I was his healer once and I'd like to think that the nights I had the opportunity to speak with him while he healed from his Morgul wound that I got to know enough about him to know why you care for him. Frodo Baggins, when I first met him properly, was all the hobbit that Bilbo had made him out to be, though I had no doubts. I was impressed by his cordiality and cultured manner. I thought on how impressive your master is and how gently he presents himself, and of course his bravery after the council."  
  
Sam blushed a little, "Oh yes sir! Frodo is all that, sir! He let's you know right off."  
  
"Well yes," smiled the elf. "And I do know that he cared for you greatly. He cared for you like he cared for his cousins and kin. I never once heard him tell you what he needed. Occasionally I heard him ask some small request of you, to help him find his pipe or to fetch a book or see if it was tea time yet, but that was all. Has he ever told you what he needed?"  
  
"I suspect not." Sam thought on it for a long moment. They had almost reached the Last Homely House before either of them spoke again. Frodo was drowsing quietly in Elrond's arms when the sound of Sam's voice jolted him slightly from sleep and he peered over the elf's arms to see his protector. "No," said Sam, decisively. "No, he never did. He never needed to. Whatever he really needed he was able enough to get for himself." Sam paused again then bowed his head. "But he's not that now," he added with a slight sigh.  
  
"No he isn't," said Elrond thoughtfully. "Not now anyway. But, Samwise, when your master was ill with the Morgul wound he couldn't tell you what he needed either. You knew then, somehow, did you not?"  
  
"You were the one that healed him, sir."  
  
"That is true but I did not take care of him like you did. Those days he lay ill you were always at his side. You calmed him from frightful nightmares, helped clean his wound and bathe him, made sure he ate properly. I heard you tell him stories, sing to him, speak to him like it was just another morning. You are the reason Frodo pulled through that as whole as he did, Sam. And no one was telling you what to do or how to do it. What now is the difference?"  
  
"It's..." Sam took a breath and then sighed. "Longer. It's so much longer. Those were a few days, it was like he only had the flu or some sort. I felt safer. I was still afraid for him, mind you, afraid like there was going to be a morning he'd just stop breathing. I was so afraid I suppose that's what kept me on. I couldn't stop to think because if I did I was affrighted that he just might stop as well."  
  
Elrond saw the young gardener wipe a tear from his eye and look to the ground. "Now I'm so confused and so is Frodo and we're just getting no where and no where fast at that."  
  
"I don't believe you're going no where, Sam. You do not think that Frodo is different from when you first awoke to see him in Ithilien?"  
  
Sam looked to his master whose eyes were watching him cautiously, curiously. "You did that, sir," Sam whispered quietly.  
  
"Some... and that young healer did a great deal as well. But don't underestimate your own part in this, Sam, and don't underestimate what you are to Frodo, what you've always been."  
  
Sam blinked then turned to Elrond, his countenance that of doubtful misery. The elf lord smiled pitiably. "A light, dear Master Gamgee. A light in the dark, something for him to hold to, follow, trust in, love and feel loved when everything else is so far and stripped away from him, made ghost-like and uncertain in the gathering shadows. You forever remained real and there for him to clutch when he stumbled."  
  
"But- but the Shire-"murmured Sam haltingly.  
  
"Of course he did it for the Shire, but do you think he can recall the Shire now, as he is? And I wonder if it was still with him towards the end," added the elf without a shred of doubt.  
  
Sam stammered a moment and seemed to waver between grief and disbelief. He finally slumped and sighed, "Yes he forgot it. I tried to make him remember, I tried to remind him, but it was lost to him in the end. Oh, it hurts so much, sir! He never deserved none of that, he didn't deserve a wit of it. He wasn't supposed to lose what he was fighting to keep alive!"  
  
"He can't if you're still with him, Sam."  
  
"It's not enough, I don't think," whispered the gardener.  
  
They had entered the home by then and the halls were dim with the soft veil of twilight, shimmering in the last pale lights of evening. The halls seemed longer, their high vaulted walls arrassed with stretching shadows that danced like dark veils in a warm wind. As they passed Bilbo's room Sam peered in as the glow of a flickering candle seemed very inviting. He put a hand to his mouth to stay his chuckles. Before him lay an interesting array of scrolls and, what Sam thought to be, bits of hobbit. He snorted slightly which caught Elrond's attention. He peered in and chuckled.  
  
In a thick cushioned armchair sat Bilbo, his chin resting on his chest, soft snores coming from deep in his chest. His hands were still gripping a thick stack of pages, some were falling from his loose grasp to pool about his feet. On a couch, sprawled on his stomach, with his long legs dangling limply from over the edges and his arms splayed, one hanging over the edge to rest his hand on the floor and the other stretched over his curly head, lie Peregrin Took. Most of his body was covered in pages that seemed to have slipped from a thick book and fallen from a careful perch atop the back cushions. Pippin's foot twitched slightly in sleep. That left the other form to be Merry, slumped over a desk with a pen still poised in his hand. A sketch of the doors of Moria lie unfinished at his hands and his fingers were smeared with ink stains.  
  
Sam smiled wistfully, "They did say they intended to do what Frodo's promise could not fulfill."  
  
"Oh?" inquired Elrond curiously, shifting the dosing hobbit in his arms.  
  
Sam cleared his throat and they continued their journey down the hall. "Yes," whispered Sam a little sadly. "Frodo said, before he left for the quest, that he'd tell Bilbo all about it for his book. But now that ... well now Merry and Pippin offered to do it but I didn't expect them to really go through with it though, no disrespect or nothing it just didn't seem like a task merited for Master Merry and Master Pippin's characters is all."  
  
Elrond laughed fully this time. "Yes it certainly seems that spending hours locked in a room with nothing but books and papers is not quite the task for those hobbits. All the more to credit their honor though. They keep their words. Frodo is very beloved by them."  
  
"Yes sir, at no mistake. And they know it's what Master Frodo would have wished to be done."  
  
Elrond nodded solemnly as they entered the cool room, now dark with night and softly washed with moonlight. The elf lord set Frodo upon the bed so very gently that the hobbit did not even stir from his sleep. Sam clamored up beside his master and stroked his cool hands. Elrond went about restoring the hearth that had still the ashes from the morning lying in it. He handed Sam some folded nightclothes and bid him goodnight as he left.  
  
Once the elf was gone Frodo's eyes opened immediately, startling Sam slightly. "Master?" Sam whispered cautiously, recognizing the blank stare of a somnolent mind. But Frodo quickly blinked and turned to focus on Sam. The gardener sighed, thankful he needn't worry about nightmares or worse that night. He helped Frodo into his bedclothes but afterward the simple hobbit did not seem so eager to sleep. He looked about as if he was checking to see if the room was safe. He crawled to the edge of the bed so that he may get a better view of the balcony and settled there, watching nothing but moonlight and the slight shimmer of night glows upon the drapes.  
  
Sam thought it natural for Frodo to be a little frightened of Elrond but he wondered why Frodo was no longer tired. He had surely endured quite a tiring day's walk. Sam felt his own lids heavy with the desire for sleep but he blinked it away and sat beside his master. "What do you see?" murmured the gardener. Frodo turned to him at the sound of his voice. Sam watched Frodo's lips move in slight, cautious imitation, but no sound ushered forth. He smiled wanly and Frodo imitated that as well.  
  
"So you've got a mind to copy me now don't you," said Sam with a bit of amusement in his tone. This time Frodo could not keep up and quickly lost track of the patterns of Sam's lip movement. Frodo cast his eyes down at the coverlet and frowned, his brow creasing in frustration. He moved his hands in the folds and creases of the blanket and sighed softly.  
  
"It bothers you that you can't..." Sam paused slightly not sure how to finish. Frodo leaned forward to rest his forehead on Sam's shoulder. He closed his eyes against the warmth he felt there and his frustrations seemed to dissipate on a warm cloud. Sam touched Frodo's shoulders gently and pushed him back. "You can't stop trying you know." Frodo pursed his lips together and frowned deeper. He shook his head, not in assent but simply to clear it. His thoughts remained hazy and uncertain. He let his eyes close. "Yes you are tired, aren't you?"  
  
Frodo's eyes opened again with a new clarity and determination, they gleamed with a light that had long abandoned them to emptiness. Sam caught his breath, "You're there some how. Hear me, come to your Sam, please sir."  
  
Frodo's lips again moved in steadfast determination but again he sputtered no word nor voice. Sam thought for a long moment. He lifted his hand and pointed to the drapes that were drifting gently on the night air. He held out his other hand and helped Frodo down with him, walking him over to the drapes and grasping them as they fluttered near. Frodo felt it and instantly pressed it to his cheek, smiling and closing his eyes. Sam smiled, "Yes they are soft, so fine and so soft." Frodo continued to rub it against his cheek before letting the curtain fall. "See, there are pleasant things," said Sam. Frodo opened his eyes at the sound of Sam's voice, his smile was bright. Sam repeated himself, "There are pleasant things." Frodo's lips moved in a slight mimic of the words but he did not still grasp the exact shape and definition was not precisely what made the sounds.  
  
Sam sighed and picked up the empty silver pitcher. He ran a finger along its cool surface. "I doubt we will be seeing much sleep tonight," he whispered as Frodo imitated the action and gasped at the coldness of the metal.  
  
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"They should be resting," said Gandalf from his watch by the door.  
  
Elrond smiled, "Let them be, they can sleep as long as they want tomorrow. I think it is good for Frodo, to bond like this with Samwise."  
  
"He is already bonded," answered the wizard. "He trusts Sam as much as he always has."  
  
"That is a good thing," replied Elrond softly. "I just hope he does not become too reliant on the gardener. He cannot always trust Sam to make frightening things go away, he has to learn that he must do so as well."  
  
"I believe he will soon learn that, if you decide to continue attempting to break his bonds. With Sam there Frodo will be confused as to why Sam allowed him to be hurt."  
  
"He will have to learn."  
  
"And once he learned that he has to think on his own, then what?"  
  
"I do not know."  
  
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A/N: Apologies for how long this chapter took and I know not much is happening. Hopefully I will be able to make up for it with an unusually quick update if luck holds out. I have decided it's high time I got something decent written and attempted to publish it. I'm hoping that I can get something quick done over the Summer though seeing how long it has taken me to write this simple fanfic, hah I doubt I'll get a novel done over the Summer. If I do I promise to recommend (make) you read it! Eh heh... Also I'm trying to finish my other fanfic "In Dreams Worlds Wait" I don't normally plug my own stuff (or anything for that matter) but that is quickly becoming my favorite endeavor to date. So please read it! I know it sounds very much unlike something I'd write (like one of those people- dropped-into-Middle-Earth pieces of garbage that are so frequently seen) but trust me it is far from it ::smile:: Please go read that while you wait for this... reviews are very much enjoyed! But you knew that! Give it a try! I beg of thee!  
  
Breon Briarwood – Why thank you. I feel like I've hit a bit of a slump in the story but maybe things will pick up.  
  
Arwen Baggins – Yay! Thanks for remembering to review. And I'm glad you're enjoying.  
  
CStini – Welcome back. Sorry for taking so long. Hope things are still enjoyable.  
  
Heartofahobbit – The healing power of love can only do so much, and I suppose it only works on someone who can grasp the concept of love. But read closely, I've dropped many clues in the past on how this shall end.  
  
Laurajslr – I'm glad you like Bilbo's reaction, I was hoping it was the right one. I haven't really written Bilbo's character before. I may actually dedicate an entire chapter to Envin (something I haven't done in a while) but that's still pretty far in the future. Sorry this took so long.  
  
Galadriel lady945 – Yes he is that in a way. But is desperate struggle to grasp even the simplest concepts is more torturous in a way, since he did once know what it was like to think on his own and express thoughts and feelings coherently. I suppose that is still with him in a way.  
  
Nayanna Baggins – Yes updating soon... eh heh... I try. Hit a bit of a slump in the action. But things may pick up soon.  
  
Shire Elf – I suppose this was a test of patience. I'm sorry this took so long and I'm glad your are still enjoying.  
  
Ailsa Joy – I'd be honored to be plagiarized by you... but I'll still have to sue your ass. You understand. I suppose I don't really have the right to bug you to update since this took so long. But I'm anxious to see what happens. We shall see what part Envin has yet to play! ::evil laugh::  
  
Frodo-lovers – I always admire people who have made the effort to learn different languages. I've never been able to make much stick when I try. I'm glad you are enjoying my fic.  
  
Endymion2 – I'm glad you like Bilbo's reaction, I was having a bit of trouble with it because I never wrote Bilbo's character before. Terribly sorry about the firefly bit. I had no idea they weren't in central Europe. My, you haven't lived unless you've seen hundreds of fireflies light up the night! Well it's become that season around here and I just felt like I needed to write them. And my boyfriend joined the US military so for the next four years I doubt he's going to be in one place very much. But at least this time we can use phones for communication instead of letters. Much better.  
  
Elanorelle – Frodo's miraculous recovery? You'll just have to read to find out! I have dropped some clues as to what will happen in the end. But that's all. Glad you are enjoying. I apologize for the wait.  
  
Stoneage Woman – There's still quite a bit more. Keep reading though, things shouldn't stay quiet for too long. Sorry that this update took so long.  
  
Nymredil72 – Your own writing is quite enjoyable. You are very talented. There are some things of yours I'm afraid I haven't reviewed. I see you write Shakespearian sonnets. You have taste. A rare quality in humans I'm afraid, even though it is talked about so much. I think I shall keep an eye on you, it's very interesting to see what you come up with. I, myself, write a good deal of poetry, some in sonnet form but I post none of them here. I know they can be very difficult. I'm glad you like my fic.  
  
Frodo's Gal – Glad you're enjoying. I have taken up one of my old fics "In Dreams Worlds Wait" and in the most recent chapter there is a great deal of Merry and Pippin angst. Give it a try. I think you will be pleased. But of course you have to read the chapters in order to understand what's going on... it's very... different. 


	40. Helpless

Chapter 38 --- Helpless  
  
Sam was strolling easily down the corridors of the Last Homely House. Vaulted ceilings loomed over him reminding the gardener of the deep bowers of an ancient tree. The smooth, carven wood, engraved with twisting, twining creatures and vines was something out of a child's tale. High above him Sam saw the arched windows, pierced with silver shafts of light. It was a clear morning and the home was alight with its white light. The fine gossamer tapestries, pooled like things of silver, woven with clear beads and drops of pearl. Sam was moving at a slightly quicker pace than leisure. He had been persuaded to attend breakfast by Merry and Pippin and he was eager to return to his master's side.  
  
As he passed through the halls, the wooden walls and beams, curving gracefully reminded him slightly of home. The grand size and ancient delicateness of the tapestries and carvings were not to be overlooked of course. This was definitely not a hobbit hole. But it did not have the grand, almost dream-like quality of Lothlorien. A place of golden leaves and massive mallorn trees whose roots, so ancient and twined formed fissures of dusty silver, wherefore a weary hobbit could lie his head and dream of blankets and pillows made all of stars. Sam closed his eyes in reverent memory. And when he would rouse to his soft grey bed of turf he would not find his dream untrue, for areigned in silver dew he'd wake and the light of stars shone and glimmered there in.  
  
Yes this was someplace between the dream and waking. This was not quite home and not so foreign and magical as Lorien. Sam quickly turned down the corridor and entered the room he shared with Frodo. Bilbo was where he was when Sam left them but the old hobbit seemed now terribly distraught. His hands were on Frodo's shoulders, shaking him gently and Bilbo was sobbing, mumbling something that sounded clearer as Sam came closer. "Please don't be angry with me, my boy! Please forgive me! Oh but if you would only speak to me, even if it were an unkind word!"  
  
"Master Bilbo!" cried Sam, hurrying to his side.  
  
Bilbo turned away from Sam. "It is my fault, he's right to be hateful toward me."  
  
"Frodo's not hateful to you, sir," Sam began a little shrilly. "He's not hateful to no one."  
  
"He won't speak to me, nigh a word. He just stares at me... he just stares," wept the old hobbit. Sam patted his back gently. He looked from Bilbo to Frodo who had fallen into his pillow and promptly began weeping for the fright of it all.  
  
Sam bit his lip and chastised himself. "You old block headed Gamgee!" he thought bitterly. "You should have known better than this, leaving Bilbo to watch over Frodo while he slept. Frodo was bound to wake up and even more likely Bilbo was bound to forget... again." Sam thought he just might shout if he had to explain one more time, he thought he might weep himself dry if he had to tell that wretched tale again. Merry and Pippin, try as they might, to explain precisely what happened over and over found it difficult enough. It was nigh torture to Samwise.  
  
"Master Bilbo, please remember. I told you about what happened to your old ring."  
  
"Yes of course," said Bilbo, righting himself in his chair. "But Frodo..."  
  
"And what happened on the way up the mountain, what Gollum did. Do you remember any of that, sir? The water..." Sam paused, unable to continue and hoping beyond hope that was enough to jog the old hobbit's memory.  
  
"Yes, yes," Bilbo waved his hand absently. "But what's happened to Frodo? Why won't he..."  
  
"He can't," Sam sighed a little too sternly for his own liking.  
  
"Nonsense."  
  
Sam stifled an exasperated sigh but it seemed only to transform into a mournful moan. Bilbo seemed in brighter spirits though, as if he had forgotten everything that had just happened. "Buck up lad," said Bilbo. "Frodo will be put to rights in some time. He just needs a spot of rest and some nourishment. Now where is Elrond?"  
  
"Frodo ate, sir. I saw to that." Sam now directed his attention to Frodo who was squirming to hide within the sanctity of his pillow. Sam pulled at him gently. "Don't do that, sir," he whispered. "Stop, you'll smother yourself." Frodo did not seem to hear and even if he did Sam knew he'd understand none of it. This time Sam had to grasp both of Frodo's shoulders firmly and pull him from the pillow. Frodo tossed in Sam's grasp, his eyes clenched shut as if he was bracing pain. His fight was growing stronger, more desperate, Sam reached over and clamped an arm over Frodo's chest so he would not pitch forward. He pulled Frodo into his arms and leaned over to speak directly into Frodo's ear. "Shhh, Sam's here. You've nothing to fear when I'm around."  
  
Frodo's groans and small cries were becoming shriller, he kicked, throwing Sam back. Bilbo jumped back, a little too quick for his old bones to allow. He let out a shout as a shot of pain jumped up his back. Soft, swift footsteps were heard along the hall. Elrond appeared in the doorway just as Frodo was beginning to register the voice in his ear was his protector.  
  
"You don't have anything to fear, Frodo, not while I'm hear. I'll keep you safe, just please be calm. Peace, master, you've nothing to fear." Frodo was breathing heavily, his chest heaving in slight, frail gasps as he fell back into Sam's arms. His curly head lolled against Sam's shoulder for a moment, his eyes once wild with fear were dull now and weary. The dim, vacant confusion was now powerfully evident in his eyes. Elrond entered and stood beside the bed, not liking what he saw.  
  
Elrond realized something then as he watched Frodo's eyes become clouded. He seemed to surrender easily to his own imprisonment now. That was far from good. He was becoming comfortable, accepting this existence. And why wouldn't he? His every attempt to understand was nigh fruitless and only left him tired, frustrated, and sometimes in pain. Why would he need to try any more if he could be safe and cared for? Sam had indeed helped improve Frodo's condition but now, now he was holding Frodo back. Frodo's reliance on Sam was keeping him from breaking free.  
  
Breaking free. Elrond knew now that it was something Frodo could only do for himself. And of his attempts or any others would bring Frodo only more pain and confusion and ultimately his destruction. Gandalf was right. The wizard had said he spoke once to Frodo that he could not force him to give up the Ring. It would break his mind. Forcing the Ring from Frodo is not the path that must be taken to save the hobbit. But perhaps if Frodo saw that he was far from safe, even with Sam, he would grow again to fear his position and strive to break himself free.  
  
The room was calm now, almost eerily silent save for Frodo's breathing which was beginning to even. Elrond cast his gaze upon Frodo's empty, cloudy eyes for a moment then examined the expressions of both Sam and Bilbo. He first went to Bilbo and whispered comfort to him before ushering him out of the room. With the door closed behind him, Elrond then approached Sam. "I have decided. We shall try one last time to break Frodo free of his prison. Will you allow this, Samwise?"  
  
Sam did not look up, his head was bent and one arm was wrapped around Frodo's torso while his other hand rested on Frodo's chest as it rose and fell as if the gardener was striving to keep the quick beating heart in its place. A small, nearly imperceptible nod and Elrond quickly began. He knew that Frodo would become quickly and unnaturally cold again and this time he was prepared. He quickly ordered a warm bath to be drawn and sent for Gandalf. The wizard came quickly, knowing Elrond's mind before he even stepped in. Sam helped lay Frodo flat on the bed and took a position near him, bracing himself to hold his master down so he would not fall. Elrond offered to send for Merry and Pippin to assist the gardener but Sam steadfastly refused. He assured them that he was capable of holding his master down and would not be swayed otherwise.  
  
They began their last attempt. Frodo was quickly hushed at first, as if he had fallen into a deathly sleep. He already grew cold and pale and in time his fingers began to twitch. Sam braced himself. Frodo's lax expression tightened, laced with pain, his cheek twitched slightly and his eyes roved frantically beneath his closed lids. Icy sweat took him like a wave. Sam felt the trembling hand in his go cold and the soft curls that framed his master like an ebony crown grew darker and clung to his face. The next thing Sam could hardly bear to listen to.  
  
First low, then growing, rising from deep within his master, from a darkness unseen and unfelt in the waking world, small pathetic cries were heard. Sam made no words out of them and was not sure if they were meant to be so or not. They were so small, like a child's but full of such anguish that no child could know. Sam wondered if they were cries to long dead parents or pleas to a master that torments him still. The gardener could not bear it. He threw himself over his master's prone form and wept in his grief. Elrond paused for a moment in his task and Gandalf waited but the elf lord simply shook his head and they continued.  
  
Frodo's now rapidly twitching hands quickly clawed at the bed, they began to tear through the sheets before he dug them in deeply and gripped the mattress desperately. His eyes flung open and stared up unseeingly. Tears fell down the sides of his face, his lips curled over his teeth as a small stream of drool accompanied the silver streaks of tears on his bloodless face. Sam felt it before it was heard. A deep quivering that started somewhere deep in Frodo, trembling as it spread through his body like a wave of ice, rooting in his bones. It filled him utterly until it ran up his spine and caught slightly in his throat. Frodo arched his back in an attempt to force this demonic winter from him and finally it tore through his lips, shattering the air like glass. A long, agonizing scream.  
  
Somewhere in the Last Homely House Merry and Pippin leapt to their feet as if they had just been called to battle, fear lit their eyes as if they looked upon death itself and once they freed themselves from the chilling spell a shudder and a grimace ran through them both before they turned to each other, tears already upon their cheeks.  
  
Somewhere in Lothlorien the Lady Galadriel stumbled slightly in her smooth gait and placed her slender hand upon a tree for support as she looked mournfully untoward the West.  
  
Somewhere in the Wild an elf and a dwarf walked side by side and looked at each other in fear and apprehension, their journey delayed for that moment.  
  
Somewhere on the road to Gondor the King halted his entire company and turned his steed West. Almost panic stricken he rode fiercely to the crest of a hill and looked about wildly until a voice from one of his men called to him. He paused and then turned back.  
  
Somewhere in a vast bedchamber in Minas Tirith the Queen bowed her head and wept into her hands as a cold wind from the balcony let fly the shadows of her hair.  
  
Somewhere upon the road from Gondor a young, exhausted healer fell from his horse and lay motionless in the dust in the road.  
  
Sam leapt from his position, lying stricken across his master and grabbed hold of Elrond's arm. He began begging, pleading for him to stop. Frodo's form was stilling. Sam screamed, begged, wept. "He's dyin'! He's dyin'! Stop this, please stop this!"  
  
Frodo was still as a stone upon the bed now and Sam pulled Elrond roughly, burying his face in the elf lord's hand. What Sam did not know was that Elrond stopped long ago. Frodo's eyes fluttered open and he looked about, tears still streaming from them. He turned his gaze to see his protector utterly undone. He was pulling at Elrond's arm fit to bring the elf down to the floor. He was sobbing and wailing shrilly, his jumbled words a mix of pathetic pleas.  
  
Frodo's expression of pain turned to that of absolute terror. He rose to his elbows, pain now forgotten for what he saw before him was beyond such pain. Frodo began shaking his head in denial. It could not be, this could never be, this should not be. But it was. His protector, the one who was fit to drive away all shadows and beat back any fears was completely, utterly, and undeniably... helpless.  
  
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A/N: Well I did promise a speedy update to make up for the lost time. I will also be disappearing for a week for vacation so the next update may be a little slow. I apologize to those whose stories I normally review, I promise to catch up when I get back.  
  
Breon Briarwood – Well I doubt this could be called a proper meeting and I don't have a detailed explanation for Bilbo. I'm afraid recapping would just be backtracking and inevitably slowing down the course of the story. Sorry but I do hope you are enjoying.  
  
Stoneage – Sorry "In Dreams Worlds Wait" will have to wait until I get back. I do have an ending mapped out though I have to admit it is rather self indulgent in a way and most people probably won't like it. But sometimes an author's just got to indulge in oneself. Fear not, I will be continued and is almost done anyway. Many thanks for the compliment.  
  
Laurajslr – I'm sorry I haven't reviewed the latest chapter to your story, fact is I haven't even got a chance to read it and I won't until I get back. I promise to catch up with reviews. That line was one of my favorites too. Short and very strong. Any novels that happen to be floating in my head I suppose can be considered top secret, in fact most of them haven't even let me in on it yet. Very frustrating plots are, stubborn as hobbits if you ask me.  
  
Leia Wood – Well for starters I'm very glad you are enjoying my story and as for whatever I plan to get published I am still very unsure about it. Mainly it began as a completely 2D character personifying my own eccentricities about control and plots centered around such are very rarely stable so it would need a lot of fleshing out. It will probably not be fantasy, though that is normally my favorite genre it will be a while before I flesh out enough geography, history, and ::gulp:: language before I can start on my fantasy world.  
  
Endymion2 – I happen to be going on vacation as well, another reason why I wanted to get this up so quick. I'm proud of myself for pounding it out so quickly and I'm pretty satisfied. And, yes, I'd definitely say that Frodo is making progress, especially in this chapter though that will be made clearer in the chapters to come.  
  
ShireElf – Ah, you are catching on very quickly indeed. I'm glad you are paying attention. "Will Frodo learn not to be so dependent on Sam?" Well he may be forced to learn now won't he? Things will be made clearer in chapters to come.  
  
Frodo's Gal – I'm glad you are enjoying both my fics. I hope your family liked "In Dreams Worlds Wait" as well. It should be done soon, much sooner than this story anyway. Enjoy!  
  
Ailsa Joy – Yes that was one of my favorite lines as well. You reviewed this just in time. I was just about to put up this chapter when I got your review. Heh maybe you'll read this chapter in the same night, more procrastination anyone? But homework!? Is it not Summer for you? I've just been enjoying the past half a month locked up in my room with a random assortment of Arias, Rachmaninov, and Mozart reading and writing like mad. Surely you should do the same. I'd say it's good for your sanity but I doubt mine is the average desired mental state. ::serene smile:: 


	41. Certainty

Chapter 39 --- Certainty  
  
The world was dark, shadowed with a lingering malice and a fog of a forgotten age. The elf lord felt anger slowly burn in him and he needed to take a breath to let it slip away. Anger would not help Frodo. He imagined the small and valiant hobbit before him, his wrists and ankles bound in chains of black iron. He would be slumped over, a small trembling heap, his long burdened back stooped and broken by his plight, his curly head bowed, hiding the expression on his face, but the elf lord knew what it would be: One of pain and betrayal, loss and confusion, anger, anguish, and the deepest of sorrows, twisted upon a once fair and noble countenance. Elrond would stoop and grasp at the shackles about the unmoving hobbit, wondering how he even managed to stay upon his knees. Frodo would not move at his touch nor lift his head at the voice. The elf lord would struggle with the iron clasps, he would pull and claw at them, try to pry open the locks. Amidst his strife and struggle he could hear a strange sound coming from the bowed hobbit. His shoulders would begin to shake a low, quivering sound escaped his weakened frame. It was a terrible sound, a dreadful, horrific sound that fell sickeningly upon the elf's ears. A sick, twisted laughter, that of a madman's, a hopeless, fearsome sound, that resounded like the coldness of new wrought steel scraping against stone. Elrond reeled back, catching a terrifying glimpse of a small, wicked smile marring Frodo's features. It was mad, lost and terrible, a sound completely bereft of hope and humanity. He leapt forward and clutched Frodo's entire hunched form in his embrace and held him close as if to shield him from the mist and darkness that surrounded them.  
  
"You will not have him!" cried Elrond. "You have taken much and paid in blood and fire, you shall not have another! Not him!"  
  
Frodo continued to laugh, his lips curled into a sick sneer. "Fool!" he hissed through his laughter. "Why do you try any longer?" Elrond looked down to see Frodo's wrists, the flesh torn from them and dark blood crusted over the deep, festering wounds. "There is no escape." Frodo's laughter died down to demented snickers. There were harsh, black whispers in the air. Elrond turned his head about, he could discern no words from the evil sounds.  
  
"He says there is no hope," muttered Frodo, his voice was cold and dead, almost relishing the pain it caused in the elf.  
  
Elrond looked down at Frodo with pity. "He has said that for a long time hasn't he?" Silence in response, but the laughing had stopped. "Do you know why? It is the memory of a voice that has long perished. It has no strength, no power, why do you let it drive you mad still?" Still the form in his arms was silent. "You know he is dead."  
  
"I am already lost, let me lay as I am," the voice now held a small note of compassion, of sorrow. "A beaten corpse of..."  
  
"You live still."  
  
Frodo grew angry, Elrond could feel it like fire in his arms. "I see nothing beyond this. Tell me this is not death."  
  
"It is not death."  
  
"Lies!" Frodo spat. "I have no need to move or try any longer."  
  
"You soon will Frodo, you will soon have great need. Keep watching the mist and you shall see, and you shall break free."  
  
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Elrond awoke from his reverie. He had not slept, nor lost awareness to the world around him. He simply put shape and form to what he had just experienced. In truth it was inaccurate the elf had to admit to himself. His attempts to break Frodo free was not that simple. It was not as simple as iron clasps about his wrists and ankles. It was like holding in his hands a fine silken tapestry, woven of fibers as fine as gossamer but as strong and bright and beauteous as mithril. But within such a wondrous cloth was woven too a poisonous weave of blackness and malice that snaked as close about the fine threads like the vapors of death, but tore mercilessly at them until it was shredded and blackened, tangled amongst the blackness and shadow. It was destruction that Elrond had repaired as best he could and he recognized the hands of other healers upon the healing process as well. But still the vapors of imprisonment lingered and that could only be cast away by the will they enslaved. Elrond could attempt to pry apart the good from the evil but he did as much harm to the good as well as the evil and that was what Frodo experienced for all to see.  
  
The impossibility of such a task Elrond was quite aware of. His attempts were solely to make whatever part of Frodo that could still comprehend anything realize that he must above all things try to cast away the shadow and to realize that he and only he was capable of such. The purpose was not to bring about a reaction from Frodo but to bring about one from Sam, one of helplessness, of doubt and sorrow, he hurt to do such to the gentle gardener, but it was the only way Frodo could see that only he could do this.  
  
The elf looked down at his charge, as he relaxed in the warm bath, and smiled sadly.  
  
Elrond placed a hand across the hobbit's chill brow, his shock was beginning to subside, his body was starting to adjust once more. The fear and pain filtered away among the tendrils of steam, rising from the tub. Frodo was awake and silent, he did not seem to mind Elrond or much of what was going on around him though his tension visibly dissipated when the other elves that had prepared his bath had gone. He was aware, watching the water drip from his hands then slouching down again to feel the warmth on his bare chest. He was quiet but not subdued, Elrond watched his movements carefully, every so often pouring a pale of hot water down Frodo's back to keep the bath warm and his body temperature stable. Frodo seemed curious now, observant but with a dull terror in his eyes.  
  
"This world is insane, backwards, what I learn to be is not to be soon thereafter. I do not like it." It was a slight, dull spark of what once was. "It does not like me."  
  
Elrond knew something was stirring beneath Frodo's still surface. He was wary of what that might be. Terror? Betrayal? Acceptance? Neither was wholly good. The voice of Galadriel whispered softly in his memory, of what she told Elrond's own son-in-law and what must now be made clear to Frodo:  
  
"There is no certainty of the future so do not put your trust in visions of what it may be. Foresight is not a guide of deeds, simply a warning of such consequences as may come. There is no certainty but the one you make yourself."  
  
There is no certainty but the one you make yourself. Elrond looked upon the hobbit before him who was tracing his finger along his forearm curiously. There the skilled healer could see a wound once had been, but now was healed and only visible to the sight of such an ancient healer and the sight of Frodo's memory. Envin's mark upon Frodo's fate was important most of all.  
  
Elrond did not hear the wizard at the door but knew of his presence before he spoke nonetheless.  
  
"Some would ask why you have done what you have done, since it is evident that you yourself knew very well that it would come to nothing," said Gandalf.  
  
"It has not come to nothing, old friend. All things come to something."  
  
Gandalf smiled and shook his head. "Never ask an elf a question for they will respond both yea and nay."  
  
Elrond returned the smile but did not let Gandalf see, his eyes were intent upon Frodo. "More the fool who believes that yea and nay together are not an answer yet yea or nay alone suffice. We do not speak of nothing, do we Mithrandir?"  
  
"Never. You saw Frodo's reliance upon Samwise, I would have also if I was permitted to keep a closer watch. Frodo's fear of me—"  
  
"Is justified, do you not think, White Wizard?"  
  
"Indeed. Sam has calmed and speaks now of leaving, I must agree with him, the road is still long and they have stayed nearly a fortnight, ample time for rest."  
  
"Perhaps."  
  
"You saw that Frodo needed the ability to choose, to react without the will of Samwise. What is it that he must choose, Elrond?"  
  
"I do not have the foresight to know. But someone has."  
  
Gandalf chuckled, "Yea and nay, old friend."  
  
"I do know all creatures must have the ability to choose, even if it is without certainty. Choice is the only certainty."  
  
"Then you know nothing of Frodo's fate."  
  
"I know as much as you know."  
  
The wizard smiled wryly, "So you do know something."  
  
Elrond smiled as well.  
  
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Bilbo was handing neat little stacks of books and papers to Merry and Pippin. They were tied up with strings to hold them together. "They should hold," said the old hobbit. "And I think things are finally in order. I suppose it is up to you lads to see this tale is told."  
  
"We shall bear this burden proudly and dutifully, Uncle Bilbo," answered Merry, smiling down at the small bundle, an accumulation of his hard work. He was strangely proud. He had accomplished something, even if it were a small thing, something he can hold and touch and read perhaps to his children. Merry shivered slightly, a small chill that fell upon his right arm and spread throughout his body at night told him there would be no children, but perhaps a warm wife to hold him tight. He felt silly just then and pulled himself back to the present where he found Bilbo looking strangely into his eyes. The old hobbit smiled sadly with a twinkle in his eye and then turned to Peregrin.  
  
The youngest hobbit straightened proudly and beamed. He was fond of his work most of all, being so young he had never even dreamed to accomplish something, it was not a little thing to him. He had small stories written, little accounts of times and places that would soon amaze the people back home. Future Thain and his own tale, the beginnings of which lay now in his hands, written by his hands. How proud Frodo would have been. Pippin bit down on his lip to stay its quivering.  
  
Bilbo smiled and placed a hand on each of their (much higher) shoulders. "There is a light in your eyes, lads, that reminds me of someone. Someone very very dear."  
  
Merry swallowed hard, he knew what Bilbo meant but he wondered if Bilbo knew. The old hobbit bowed his head in sorrow. Somehow, Merry thought, Bilbo knows well enough.  
  
There was a soft knocking as Sam peered into the room. Merry rushed to him, "How fares our cousin?" he asked urgently.  
  
Sam nodded sadly, "Lord Elrond says he's doing fine and with a night of rest and comfort he should come around."  
  
"That scream," muttered Pippin, shivering visibly.  
  
"You heard him?" Sam asked with tears shining in his eyes.  
  
Merry shook his head slightly, "Yes, but we felt it as well. Like ice piercing one's very soul."  
  
"Like a shadow touching my heart," whispered Pippin, brushing the tips of his fingers against his breast. "And then just sorrow, swelling and crashing and swallowing everything like..."  
  
"The sea," whispered Bilbo. The three younger hobbits had almost forgotten he was there. They turned to him then and he looked very sad and wistful, some faraway look in his eyes. He then turned to them and the sharpness of his gaze was like it had been from way back when they remembered him. "I have read in ancient tales and lore that when the hero of the saga was forced to suffer or struggle in some intense plight those that shared a common bond with his plight feel his anguish."  
  
The three younger hobbits were rapt, as if it were those many many years ago and Bilbo had been regaling them with tales and histories of long ago that were both mighty and terrible. Bilbo shook his head and chuckled sadly, thus breaking his spell. "But that is solely fantasy, my lads. Such things do not truly happen." His chuckling stopped and he grew suddenly grieved. "I too heard Frodo's voice rise in such a scream. It was chilling and so," his voice cracked, his shoulders slumped, "full of hurt. Oh my boy, what ever have you endured to do this to you?"  
  
Pippin set down his papers and caught Bilbo as he swayed, taken in a storm of grief. He sat the old hobbit down and soothed him as best he could. But Bilbo could find no succor. Merry turned gravely to Sam, "You have come to tell us that we will be departing soon, correct?"  
  
Sam nodded silently.  
  
Merry sighed and it seemed both weary and of relief. "It is good that we should go. I feel uneasy of late and I believe that my heart would be content if I felt the Shire safe and as it was when we left it beneath my feet."  
  
"Same here, Mr. Merry. But I want Frodo to be up to his full health before we go, begging your pardon but we can't treat him on the road as well as Lord Elrond can treat him here."  
  
"Of course, Sam. When Frodo is well we will depart. Might we see him?"  
  
"Lord Elrond is tending to him right now, he said he'd be sending someone to get me when Frodo was all calm and restful like."  
  
"Then I shall come with you. Pippin and Bilbo as well. I'm sure Bilbo desires to see his dear nephew as much as he can before we go and Pip and I just want to be with him in the comfort of Rivendell."  
  
"Of course, Mr. Merry."  
  
There was a long moment of silence before Merry blurted out, "How are you faring, Sam?"  
  
"I, sir?"  
  
"No I was speaking to the shrub in the corner."  
  
The jest seemed flat somehow in the dreary atmosphere. Sam turned his eyes to the grounds and wrung his hands absently. Merry noted the distress with the young gardener and placed a gentle hand upon his shoulder. Sam looked at the hand and then up to Merry's face to see him smiling sadly, a small token of comradery. It somehow lifted Sam's heavy heart. "Sam," Merry whispered. "We share a common bond you and I. Do not think it is not true. You love Frodo dearly, as do I, and Pip and Bilbo as well. Do not think that you cannot share that with us."  
  
"I just feel so helpless, sir," Sam sighed, letting his hands drop.  
  
Merry nodded. He had no words of comfort. He too felt helpless and Frodo seemed so far away. The door creaked open and Elrond peered in. "My good Halflings," he smiled. "Your Frodo is resting and I do not think he will be very frightened if he had a few visitors."  
  
The eager response from the hobbits in the room was not unexpected.  
  
Frodo indeed was lying in his bed, so small and lost among the white linens. Sam was the first to enter, followed by Pippin and soon enough Merry helping Bilbo. They were surprised to see Frodo fully awake and peering about him. Gandalf was at a safe distance in a chair, keeping an ever vigilant watch. Sam, at first, was nervous that so many faces that Frodo could not recognize would frighten him, but it was not so. This relief only died like a candle being snuffed out as Sam did not see the usual eagerness Frodo often showed him when he came to him. The hobbit in the bed seemed different now, more cautious and somehow disappointed. He looked upon Sam sadly and then looked away.  
  
The helpless servant stopped in his approach, filled suddenly with grief and anger. He wanted to cry out to Elrond why he had done such a thing, what good could have come of it. Things seemed hopeless now; Frodo was even more withdrawn.  
  
"Not withdrawn, thoughtful, Sam."  
  
Sam turned to see Elrond in the doorway looking upon him with pity. Sam swiped at his tears angrily and turned away feeling betrayed. He saw Pippin had already scrambled onto the bed and Frodo was watching him do so with guarded scrutiny. Not once did he look towards Sam for help. Pippin looked far too old to be the Peregrin Took Sam once knew. He kneeled before his cousin and reached out a hand to touch his cheek. Frodo flinched at the touch, his eyes darting across Pippin's face wildly. The young hobbit simply bowed his head and let a few tears slip down his cheeks and fall into his lap. The moonlight shone upon his lithe figure like a garb of white armor. Sam saw the warrior in that small child, the youth and sorrow in his face, the wisdom etched in the crease of his brows. It seemed misplaced on such a youthful face, one that still shone with the innocence and benevolence that Frodo had fought to keep alive in this world. Perhaps Pippin was the only one that was capable of holding onto such a strong flame of innocence while he stood trembling among the horror and shadow that seemed to swallow all that was good and bright and clear. Pippin held onto what was inevitably wrested from Frodo, Merry, and even Samwise himself in the end.  
  
Frodo did not lean comfortingly into the gentle touch of his younger cousin. He simply grasped the hand at his cheek and laid it on his own lap. He spread out the fingers that were still stout like a child's. Frodo watched his own hands slowly manipulate Pippin's. The younger hobbit could not help but smile to see his cousin's curiosity but felt strange somehow. The way Frodo handled his hand was far too gentle, he handled it like a small injured thing that might break, his hold was weak and his movements were clumsy, they were unsure and cautious as a toddler's.  
  
As Merry settled Bilbo in a comfortable chair he joined his cousins on the bed. Frodo paid little notice to him, far too interested in Pippin's hand and its movements. Pippin would curl his fingers around Frodo's and allow his cousin to pry them gently away and then imitate the action curiously. Merry was content at Frodo's side, he stroked his cousin's hair and rubbed his back soothingly earning a few side glances from Frodo that were at first wary and uncertain but became nearly joyous and comfortable.  
  
Gandalf smiled from his seat in the corner. He puffed on his pipe as he watched the cousins like they were children playing a game. They were taking small joys simply in each other's presence. He saw small tentative smiles appear on Frodo's face every time he turned to Merry, simply acknowledging Merry's attention. He was enjoying his new company. The old wizard approved. He was not content although. He saw Sam still standing far from the bed with tears in his eyes. It would take much longer for the gardener to accept Frodo's self-reliance. Gandalf closed his eyes and took a breath. He could not recall ever being so uncertain. By noon the next day the hobbits would make ready to leave and he would accompany them to offer what protection he could... until they reached the Shire.  
  
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A/N: Apologies for the delay again. Back from vacation! And attempting to catch up on my writing. Attempting... not quite succeeding there's never enough time to do everything I intend to. I end up going so long without sleep or food or.... Ahhh! It's four a.m.! Slave to the muse! But I love it and would have it no other way!  
  
Breon Briarwood – That's precisely what Elrond was attempting to do. After all if Frodo got comfortable with his current condition how would he ever get back? I'm glad you're enjoying.  
  
Stoneage Woman – I hope the wait was not too long. I will try for a quicker update next time.  
  
ShireElf – Well Frodo would have never tried if he knew he could just rely on Sam to get him out of everything. Now that he doesn't there's much more hope. My vacation went well but now I suppose it's back to work!  
  
Nymrendil – I hope you enjoy your vacation. And I hope this chapter has answered a few of your questions.  
  
Laurajslr – I hope this chapter has answered some of your questions. Hold onto hope my friend. I am anxious to see more of your fic but am sad to see it end. I hope you start a new one soon.  
  
Ailsa Joy – No updates yet from you! ::miff:: I'm glad you liked that part in my last chapter, Frodo's scream I put a lot of effort into a writing. It was a scene I wanted to hit the reader hard. I'm glad it did.  
  
Frodo-lovers – Glad you liked the chapter. I know you are a fan of Pip and Merry, so if you like some Pippin antics, nice light and humorous then you can check out my new little fic "Vie For Dominance". Hope you enjoyed this chapter!  
  
Arwen Baggins – Glad you are enjoying!  
  
Tersa – Perfect, that was the reaction I was going for with Frodo's scream. It is wonderful to see pleased readers and hear about their reactions. Definitely shows I'm doing something right.  
  
Endymion2 – Enjoy your vacation. Perhaps I shall have a couple more updates before you get back.  
  
S-Man – I am honored by your review. I used that "somewhere in..." line so many times solely because I could not leave any member of the fellowship out and well Envin... you know. I hope things are clearer in this chapter and I hope you keep enjoying the tale. 


	42. Westward

Chapter 40 --- Westward

There was a figure lying in the road, a loyal horse standing beside it. There were cries among the large company as they neared it. News soon reached the king's ears of a man found fallen in the road. Aragorn tried to weave his way forward on his mount to see what or who it was that was causing such a stir. A soldier quickly flanked him, peering into the king's troubled countenance with worry.

"I do not think that it is Saruman, Emáten, causing this stir. I have heard some of the men speak of a man lying in the road."

The young knight at his side furrowed his brows, unsure whether to question the king on how he knew what he was about to ask, or to mention that this could be a trap. Warily he reached for his sword and kept his horse close to the king's. He may not have been able to defend the Ringbearers from that wretched dotard but he would now leap before his king if need be. Aragorn knew this and smiled with a hint of amusement in his eyes.

The company of Gondorian soldiers was thick and it took Aragorn long to reach the front. He and Emátenlooked on in stunned fear for a mere moment before, with a clatter, Emáten dropped his sword and swung down from his mount crying, "Brother! Oh brother, what grim token is this? What has led you to this place?" He ran to Envin's side and knelt before him, embracing the young healer's form.

Aragorn soon followed and grasped Envin's wrist. "He lives yet," said the king. "He has overtaxed himself I am afraid."

"Why, my king? Why would he take flight when he was so exhausted?"

"I do not know. I shall try to revive him and gain what answers I can."

"Do you think it was Saruman?" Emáten spat the name like it was venom in his mouth. "Or perhaps he was fleeing the city, it may not yet be safe from danger, especially with that rotten snake slithering about."

"I do not think Gondor is in any peril, Emáten. My wife would have sent word to me, and Saruman has no power any longer. But I agree that we should hasten. We should be a fortnight, perhaps less, but if you so desire to get your brother home and cared for then you may hasten ahead with him and whom ever men are willing shall accompany you. I doubt the road is dangerous any longer and so close to the city as well."

"I dearly wish my brother cared for, my lord," said Emáten sorrowfully cradling Envin's head. The young healer furrowed his brow as if he felt a pain and his eyes moved feverishly. His lids fluttered open partly and his dry lips parted in wonder.

"Emáten?" He rasped.

"Yes, brother, I shall take you home."

This did not please the healer; he reached up suddenly and grasped his brother. "No... the Ringbearer. I have seen that he is in great danger. I must reach him."

"You can go nowhere as you are," the king responded sternly.

Emáten had a torn look upon his countenance. "My lord if he speaks sooth then someone must reach the Halflings."

"It shall not be him, but I believe he is delirious. Gandalf has promised to stay with them until they were safe in the Shire. I trust Mithrandir to protect them."

Emáten bit his lip and suffered great debate before bowing his head low. "Yes, my lord. I shall ride now for Gondor."

Aragorn called for three attendants to accompany the brothers and they set off at great speed. Envin's steed was left with the king's company and the two brothers traveled upon Emáten's horse. The four horses sprang forth upon a wind and let fly over hill and plain. Aragorn watched them until they could no longer be seen by the Ranger's eyes. Dusk was beginning to settle on the company and still they had more to travel before Aragorn desired them again to rest. The king smiled slightly, impressed by the men's sovereignty. They are a strong men, Aragorn thought, whose hearts are noble and willful.

Aragorn watched the dwindling light give way to the silver night whose shadows and moonlight made his heart ache for his love. Arwen would have told him if she saw the hobbits to be in grave danger. Still the king trembled with an unknown fear.

That day was a cold one, ushered in by an icy wind that scoured the whole land of Rivendell. The warm falls and streams held over them a veil of mist that hovered and drifted in the cold air. All around the Last Homely House silver lanterns were hung and upon the limbs of trees to light the frosted land. Gandalf looked toward the grey sky and said, "Today we depart." The small, hooded form beside him nodded dully. Sam looked up into the face of the wizard and Gandalf saw how young the hobbit was for the first time in a long time. Sam's face was trusting and determined, he adjusted his cloak and entered the Last Homely House to bid his farewells and prepare his master for the journey.

Sam and Gandalf had been walking all morning until the world was far too difficult to see as the mists rose up. They traveled back and all was silent among them. Sam had watched the elves move among the mist, holding long strings of silver beads from which hung their flickering lanterns. He watched them weave the strings about trees until the lights swayed in the breeze. The elves were quiescent and their bright eyes were distant. Sam found them strange and far away. Their beauty seemed to emerge from the mist and disappear henceforth. He felt a slight longing there, in the glances that they gave him. Gandalf smiled to see that Sam, no matter what had changed about him, would always hold a childish wonder and reverence for elf-kind.

Once the two solemn wanderers again reached the home, Gandalf had spoken his intentions. Sam seemed to already know and nodded slowly. He was glad to leave in a way. During their walk Gandalf had studied the hobbit. Somehow Sam had known that as well, but any acknowledgement he gave to it was small and noncommittal. There was a painful desperation in Sam, something that shone in his eyes when he gave a somber look that Gandalf, at first, had difficulty placing. He had recognized it. It seemed like he had seen that subdued fear and painful acceptance before. He had. In Frodo. If he was less wise he might have found it horribly frightful, but he was aware of a slight pain in his heart whenever Frodo seemed to look at him through Samwise's eyes. Had the innocent almost childlike mind of Sam gained the gentle thoughtfulness that was his master? It could very well have been so, during the quest, that Samwise gained some of Frodo's gentler qualities.

The day moved quickly, like a dream that flows swiftly through waking thought. Pippin and Merry had shown some foresight and gathered theirs' and Frodo's things ere Sam told them the news. He had only walked into their room and Merry looked at him, walked over toward the post and grabbed Frodo's coat, "So we're leaving then," was all he said and it was not a question. Perhaps he had judged it by Sam's countenance alone. He stayed only enough time to see Merry help his pliant but wary master into his coat. He turned away before whatever sudden feeling (which he found he could not name) had registered on his face.

He gathered his own things in relative silence, occasionally muttering aloud what he thought he might have forgotten. Tying everything to his pack with a bit of twine he paused to look at his handiwork, started as if struck by a sudden memory, and rushed to the shelf. It was very high for a hobbit but he stood precariously on tiptoe and his hands met what he wanted; the small wooden box that Arwen had given him to hold Frodo's jewel. He smoothed his hands over the carvings thoughtfully before placing it with his things and shrugging into his coat.

He found Merry and Pippin had brought Frodo to Bilbo's room for their last goodbye. The old hobbit had his arms around his young heir and his head bowed onto the lithe shoulder. Sam guessed that he had been weeping and when he pulled away Sam saw the dark patch on Frodo's shoulder and knew he had been weeping long. Frodo shifted uneasily when Bilbo pulled back and met the older hobbit's eyes with caution. Bilbo grimaced as if his heart hurt to see the confusion in Frodo's eyes. He backed away with one hand behind him to guide him to his chair. He stumbled, let his legs collapse into the chair and finally broke his gaze with his nephew to stare at the floor. Frodo turned to Merry as if he held the answer, seeing that it was not in him either, Frodo walked away to another part of the room. He ran his hand brusquely over the stacks of books and papers, let them hover over a mug that had been left atop the pile, then drifted to stroke the feather quill. It was then that Merry looked up at Sam and the gardener knew that Merry had known of his presence the whole time.

"Come along, Sam," he said with a touch of cheer. "It's too cold out for Bilbo to bid us farewell on the doorstep, so we've come to him."

Sam stepped forward and knelt before the old hobbit on the chair. Bilbo gave a teary smile, "Stand up, Sam," he proclaimed. "Up off your knees so I can say goodbye properly."

Sam obeyed and stood as Bilbo did as well. And before Sam could stutter a word he was caught in Bilbo's embrace. A little stunned he returned it as respectfully as he could. "I'm glad you were with my boy," said Bilbo then he pulled away to look at Sam. "Sam. I'm glad you were with him."

"Be well, Mr. Bilbo," Sam responded softly, a little dazedly.

"You too, lad," was a very stern reply. Sam saw that it was an order.

Sam stepped away and let Merry and Pippin say their goodbyes in peace. By the time he reached Frodo, who was very intently playing with the feather, Merry and Pippin were laughing and gathering their things. Sam placed a hand on Frodo's back and finally received some amount of attention. Frodo looked up, a little startled, then broke into a warm smile, his bright eyes darting to the pen. He held it toward Sam, proudly displaying the unique item. Sam smiled tentatively, reached out to touch it, and was quickly tapped on the nose. He blinked a bit then sneezed, eliciting what sounded like a soft laugh from Frodo.

"Come on, Sam!" Pippin called.

Sam placed a hand on Frodo's back and led him away. Frodo was at first reluctant to leave his new found feather, but did not put up a big fuss. By the time he was out of the room the pen was forgotten and he followed obediently, every few steps seeming to pause, forgetting what he was supposed to be doing, then with a short look at the others followed again.

Gandalf had the ponies ready and was already mounted. Elrond was standing beside him. Whatever goodbyes they wished to exchange it had already been done. The Lord of Rivendell gave them his blessings and watched as they rode away. Sam looked up as the sun hung low in the western sky. They would not ride hard or long that day. But at last he and Frodo and all his kin had turned their eyes home.

A/N: I know I know! What the heck, right! Apologies. And it was even a short chapter too. ::sigh:: Perhaps I can make up for it with an immediate update, say tomorrow. I'm working on the next chapter now. Bah! What's wrong with me?

Laurajslr – Thank you for sticking to this. I can't wait to read your next story. Yes Sam is mourning the loss of the part he had been playing but it would all be worth it if he could see how much more this will help Frodo. Sadly he can't. Poor Sam.

Breon Briarwood – Yeah, Sam would feel much better if he could see how this would help Frodo. But poor Sam just sees the hopelessness of the situation. Poor hobbit.

Leia Wood – Glad you are enjoying. I try to keep dialogue as Tolkien would have it. As close as I can be anyway.

Arwen Baggins – I'm glad you are enjoying my fanfic! Keep reading, I know my horrible timing is hell to put up with.

Ailsa Joy – Bear with me here. I'll pick up my act soon. Hopefully I'll beable to update very quickly too. So glad you are enjoying.

ShireElf – Yes, Frodo is going to need to be making some decisions soon if he is every to be saved.

Nimrodel – I'll try to update sooner, promise.

Nymredil72 – Ah! I thought you hadn't updated in a while but I just remembered you stopped categorizing your story under Frodo and Sam didn't you! I promise to check up and catch up right away. Yes I tried to fix the awkwardness between Frodo's cousins and Sam. Not only is the status a difficult gap to bridge but their personalities are definitely a foil for Sam's. I'm glad you enjoyed that part.

InsanelyObsessed – I'm glad you took the insane amount of time it takes to read my fic. I hope you stick with it. Enjoy!

Frodo's Gal – I'm working on a strictly humor Frodo and Pippin story but it may be a while before it put it up. Keep reading!

Nayana Baggins – So glad you like it! Keep reading please!

Iorhael – It's okay I hope you are still liking it, bear with my insane updating schedule. Eh heh.


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